


The Light in Shadows

by GhouliGhost



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, Eventual Romance, Friendship/Love, Graphic Description, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Violence, WILL ADD SHIT AS I GO, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 104,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhouliGhost/pseuds/GhouliGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love can be found even at war, just like light can be found in the darkest of shadows. Sometimes you just have to squint a little to see it. { War AU } [Temp Hiatus]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What are you made Of?

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting my shiz here lol. Haven't written properly in years, so excuse my rustiness. Oh god. And any errors. And terrible language. And non-stop babbling.
> 
> Just excuse everything and shoot me now k.
> 
> Enjoy. I love criticism cause I have no clue where I'm going with this so here I go. Drop me Ima runnin'.
> 
> Excuse my OOCness. Gotta get back in the swing of things.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love can be found even at war, just like light can be found in the darkest of shadows. Sometimes you just have to squint a little to see it. { War AU }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time posting my shiz here lol. Haven't written properly in years, so excuse my rustiness. Oh god. And any errors. And terrible language. And non-stop babbling.
> 
> Just excuse everything and shoot me now k.
> 
> Enjoy. I love criticism cause I have no clue where I'm going with this so here I go.
> 
> Excuse my OOCness. Gotta get back in the swing of things.

**{ 1 }**

One can always tell where there has been war because it is more easily seen than anything else in this world. They can see it in the landscape; the way it's ravaged and ruined, decaying from battle scars that will never heal. They can see it in the sky; once a beautiful baby blue and now a sickly black and gray from the fog of ash and smoke still thick on the air. But the places that bore most of wars truest affects carries in the people who live in its hell.

  
  


Their bodies, their postures, their attitudes, and worst of all; their eyes.

  
  


Where war happens it is the people who carry its flag. They wave it on their grave, distilled hearts swelled with pent-up anguish and hopelessness. Emotions that can never fully be cured or eased. They were permanent. Everlasting like the song of the deceased.

  
  


It was the same for Whale Island; even the small and secluded coastal port couldn't be saved from the First Hunter War. It devastated entire continents, already traversing half the globe with its maddening pollution of blood and devastation. It seemed impossible to stop. The Hunter Association was using everything in its power to just prohibit the advance of foreign Chimera Ant creatures that appeared from out of nowhere; apparently birthed in secrecy far off in the whee forbidden corners of the globe. They were demolishing everything in their path; so powerful that even the founders struggled at their fullest potential.

  
  


Already, over hundreds of thousands of causalities had been confirmed and that hadn't included all the missing and wounded. That number continued to climb and at this point of time; humans and hunters alike were facing extinction if they weren't eradicated. Their leader; Meruem the ant 'King', was so incredibly powerful, he could extinguish over 100 of the best nation's hunters with just a bored flick of his wrist. The calculative slaughter was brutal and yet so effortless for the Chimera Ants, that most humans would rather end their lives before suffering the fate of such violence.

  
  


By no means were the Ants even the slightest bit kind; torturing every bit of innocent persons for however long their will power could handle before they broke. From slow dismemberment, rape, snail-paced torture with every kind of weapon, poison, and method available to their knowledge, and more; the list was endless to what one would face in the greedy claws of those venomous, alien species. Not a soul could bare imagine living or surviving through that.

  
  


Death was the easiest answer and the quickest, most willing escape route.

  
  


Back to the situation at hand. It has been almost four months now since the beginning of the Chimera Ant invasion and the First Hunter War. Soldiers from the Hunter Army had several manned camps settled throughout the continents, split into two stations. One for battle and one for rescue. As there were still survivors, there was a large priority in rescuing and finding anyone still alive and have them transported to the very few safe 'houses' that were set up furthest from the battle field. Any able bodied people that could fight would be recruited, but right now, their biggest priority was to save as many as possible. The battlement was to provide back up and protection when necessary. They knew what their lives meant and were willing to sacrifice at a moments notice; at least to an extent.

  
  


Several encampments where Chimera Ants had imprisoned people at were constantly and gradually being raided by the Hunters. It was never an easy win; when more than 75% of the time their attacks and attempts to dismember the camps would be futile and end up in almost a 100% chance of total catastrophe. But they still tried, still fought, even to their graves. It was all humanity had left. All what little hope remained. All of it held in blood-stained, torn apart digits never drying.

  
  


Only wet with the fresh reminder of reality.

  
  


Killer hands that should never had have to tear through flesh.

  
  


That was what Leorio Paladiknight; age 24 and fresh out of college and on his way to becoming a full-fledged doctor/now turned war medic, thought anyway as he stood at the borderline between the encampment's forest line and the large expanse that clearly showed the three fortified buildings in sight. Another Chimera Ant hold. The fourth and last one that had been set up on Whale Island; thankfully because it wasn't a very heavily populated or large island for that matter. His eyes were rimmed with shadows from lack of sleep, bags under heavy lids that spent nights crying out what little tears his body could spit out on such small amounts of fluid he lived off of.

  
  


In his left hand Leorio carried his trusty suitcase filled with medical supplies, heavy and stuffed full. He could never have too much on himself during combat. And in the right; his grip tight and stiff like the scars and wounds that laced his arm with its grizzly reminder that he too, had a killer's hand, was a gun. A gun that killed; Leorio counting 157 lives so far and each one left another unrecoverable mark upon his guilty, shameful soul, as they did the same upon the weapon in his grasp. Those 157 deaths were his nightmares in the middle of night, waking up screaming and thrashing in a fit of sweat and shakes. But he wasn't the only one.

  
  


He was lucky, actually, Leorio always told himself. Because, despite the fact he murdered people with cold, steel bullets to whichever place was easier to shoot, he never truly had the victims blood upon him. Not like those who were fighting on the front line.

  
  


Killua Zoldyck. A prodigy in his own right from a family of world renowned assassins. He was the one person he first thought of on that instance whenever he stared at the empty, soulless eyes of those he had slayed and watched them bleed out every last drop; no matter how ugly and grotesque the Chimera Ants appeared. They still somehow resembled humans, with humanoid bodies and humanoid speech patters and mannerisms. It was no different to him. It was still another that he had killed, but it was no worse then what he imagined it would be like for that boy of 16, so innocent and clean, now bloodied and disgusting just like everyone else around him. Killers. Murderers. Assassins.

  
  


Death Bringers hoisting the Grim Reapers flags when they marched into the battle field with expressionless faces and crimson liquid branding their skin, their hands, their faces in a grim reminder of who they've became.

  
  


But it was still Killua; the strongest (and youngest) Hunter of their entire battlement: **Silver Squadron 2 of the West Division** , that Leorio could not tear his mind off of whenever they were trudging towards their next battle. The boy was by no means the leader; hell, he made the leader look as weak and puny as the powerless humans that laid dead at their feet. He blamed it on his own undying need to care about someone, having lost his own brother to the war himself. He couldn't handle watching someone so young follow suit.

  
  


But, alas, even he had to admit, that Killua was good at what he did. And more times then most, everyone in the group had faith in him; in a sick and twisted way or another.

  
  


The snowy haired teenager was reveled as a _monster_ among the other members. He was cold, silent, and lifeless. He moved and breathed, even _lived_ like a natural born killer. And that terrified not only Leorio, but everyone else who had to stand alongside him in the heat of desecration and defilement. The commander himself; Hanzo of the infamous Ninja Clan back North; heralded for their insane gift of stealth and assassination, even gave a wide birth whenever that cool, crisp white shadow stalked past their ranks; eyes dead and empty, devoid of anything but the blood that freshly splattered on him like a painted canvas of what real death actually looked like.

  
  


Even when the poor boy showered; alone of course, no one would get within ten feet of him. Leorio could still smell that lingering scent of dissolution and decay. The grimy, metallic scent wafted around his entire being; past the icy wave of his aura that sent chills down Leorio's spine two rooms away. It was unbearable, to the point of madness, but no one dare rid of the guy. No, because he was the strongest of them all, they knew, and when the battle begun, he would be the first to begin attack and the last to land the finishing blow.

  
  


Usually it was with his bare hands; on top of that, with nails and daggers as sharp as their strongest swords and metals that tore bodies like they were cutting through water. It was effortless for Killua to swing his knives through bodies and hack away at all their vital organs until they were nothing but crimson paste and chalky dust. Heads would roll and limbs would fly until nothing remained, and that was only in the span of seconds. Most of the time; sighs of both relief and disgust would emanate from the squadron, as more than half of the percent of work would be of Killua's doing and save a lot of the recruits their grief and turmoil of killing once again.

  
  


But Leorio knew, the teenager would never be saved from the burden he bore on his back, wings brandished only by the Devil himself – The one who dances with death.

  
  


He shuddered at the memories and the thoughts, bile threatening to spill from his severely chapped lips as he licked them and readjusted his small rimmed glasses back onto his nose.

  
  


“Well, ready for another day at 'work', Leorio? Thankfully this is the last one and it'll be at least a few weeks before we arrive at our next assignment. Which means a nice, well-deserved break, don't you think?” A small, quiet voice broke his thoughts, almost sending him into a flying panic, but calmed the moment his eyes fell upon that familiar blonde. Being a seasoned war veteran did little to calm anybody's nerves, not bettered by time whatsoever.

  
  


Kurapika; age 21 and an up and coming Blacklist Hunter. Blonde, rather short with gray eyes (they were contacts; his real eyes a grayed blue), and lithe body wrapped in a uniformed styled version of his clan's outfits (It took some persuasion from Hanzo but the guy was just too open-minded and nice, so of course he let him in the end). He was the last remaining 'Kurta' as they call it, a gifted and rare breed with piercing red eyes that glowed whenever their emotions were heightened to a point. They were hunted and sought after all the over the world for their scarlet-enhanced rarity; leading to their massacre, so that left this young man as the soul survivor.

  
  


It was a miracle he had so readily chose to be upon the front lines; but Leorio was thankful all the same. Him and Kurapika had built such a strong friendship since the day they met at their first Hunter exam, that they were almost inseparable. Leorio had helped Kurapika in his search for eyes several years in advance before the war had begun and Kurapika had willingly volunteered in aiding Leorio's studies in the medical field whenever he needed a good push up.

  
  


And now, during the first ever Hunter War, they were partners on the battlefield, still inseparable and still with a tightly knitted bond that failed to bend or break even in the throw of all the insanity they faced day in and day out.

  
  


Kurapika was probably the only reason Leorio could wear a smile on his face, could fathom pushing himself up every morning and continue stepping out onto the desolate wasteland for another day. It was only him.

  
  


“Yeah.” Leorio's dry, deep voice finally said with a sigh before he glanced down at his friend who now stared out at the expanse with his usual calculating expression he wore whenever they were preparing for their typical duties. “I'm ready. Hopefully this one will be a piece of cake with little blood shed. I just washed this suit and would rather see all the hard work I put into rinsing out those stains at least last for a week for once! Am I right, Kurapika?”

  
  


They both joined in unison for a laugh, sharing the joking tones together as they always have, if anything to ward away the pre-battle jitters. It usually helped lighten the mood, however brief it may be.

  
  


“Come, now, Leorio. Put more faith in yourself.” He nudged a friendly elbow to the taller man's side and smiled very softly up at him, “I have a good feeling about this one. Hanzo reported that there was very little guards but hordes of captured people. With our luck, we can hopefully rescue a lot more people for a change. Can you imagine all the lives we'll save? It'll be worth it, won't it?”

  
  


Leorio nodded eagerly and straightened his shoulders with renewed vigor. “Yes! Yes.” he laughed, louder than necessary. But it felt good for a change. A shred of hope. A chance. A new-

  
  


**“EVERYBODY REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS! WE ARE MOVING OUT IN TEN MINUTES!”**

  
  


The two young adults spared one last quick glance to each other, smiled big and fist bumped fast, before trotting off to their posts; feeling revived and ready for work.

  
  


Ready for war.

  
  


  
  


“So, how is that 'special' prisoner fairing today, captain? I heard he was giving the other Ants a load of trouble earlier.”

  
  


A large bodied fish-like man; his body rippled by muscles and covered in scales from head to toe up towards the gills on his cheeks, strode purposefully forward through the dank halls of the highest security storage building of the base. Alongside him strode a younger patron; another male, laced by a full-furred torso and a sleek under bottom, resembling that of a lion with a naked underbelly. He was holding a clipboard, writing fast and nodding his head along with whatever the head guard said knowing that one slip-up would be a slow and painful demise.

  
  


Chimera Ants hated doing anything quick, finding it much more pleasant to let the blood drip slow and the agony last long.

  
  


“Good, good.” The aquatic gentleman cooed, hands clasped with eagerness and rubbing together. “The sedation is finally kicking in and that wretched boy just began adjusting his temper. He has been our most bothersome but no matter how many times I try to convince the leader otherwise, he insists we must keep him alive!” Shaking his head in disbelief, the captain threw his arms up and gestured around while he continued to ramble, “Something about 'great potential' and 'obvious strong auras'. Things like that they have yet bothered informing us about.”

  
  


“From what I hear,” the lower lion lackey mumbled, eyes rooted firmly on his notes, “They plan on turning him into an Ant. Apparently he's one of those exceptionally strong humans that everyone has spread nasty rumors about avoiding, but when you talk to him, he seems completely confused over the subject. I'm not sure if he's lying or not, but the other Ants seem to agree that the boy is as oblivious as they come.”

“Suits him right!” The captain boasted, turning the corner and picking up pace a little, their destination in sight. “Killing five of our best soldiers barehanded in his dumb, idiotic rage and not remembering a single thing that occurred? Preposterous! I say off with his head and maybe some of his other limbs, too, cut with a pair of those... those..” He seemed to be trying to be thinking of the proper word for it, using his hands in a sort of snapping motion with two fingers, squinting hard with his beady eyes at the aforementioned digits.

  
  


“Scissors.” The lion Ant interjected when he recognized the notion.

  
  


“Yes, those! Scissors!” He pointed back at his underling. His feet paused at the doorway leading to a solitary cell. “He should be sliced to pieces nice and slow with a pair of them scissors.”

  
  


Nodding resolutely, the lion Ant set his clipboard aside on the small stand set against the wall before picketing out he keys from a safe beneath it, shuffling through the many pairs that lay within the safety box as he muttered unintelligible words to himself.

  
  


“The keys, sir.” They were offered to him the second they were within sight and the captain nodded. He stepped forward and carefully inserted the metal trinket into its slot. Afterward, a five digit code was pressed on the keypad fastened underneath the lock, followed by a resounding click to signal it had accepted the pass code. He did a few other safe-cracking methods; things like removing chains and more locks tangling along the door's edge, before he finally finished with his work and moved back to appreciate his success.

  
  


With one last creak, the door was opening and the two Ants hovered like large, angry shadows with the light at their backs over the smaller, lone teenage boy dressed to the hilt in heavy steel restraints. His arms were pulled impossibly high, legs uncomfortably pinned to the floor, and head held low by the collar that dangled at his neck. But his eyes; deep golden irises that glowed through the darkness of his cell, stared straight ahead. Straight at them, actually, never breaking contact as a small grin began to break out on the tanned skin like polished brass.

  
  


The Ants couldn't helped but shiver, hesitantly taking a step back out of pure reflex at even the faintest hint of danger. And it was there, radiating in pools of hungry tendrils leeching out through the tiny room's crevices, tasting the air, lapping it up.

  
  


Feeding on their fear.

  
  


The boy's smile curled up to his ears, golden color shutting off into the darkness for a moment, if only a moment. And the voice that followed, cemented that fear inside them. Permanent and true.

  
  


“Hello there!”

  
  


The change in atmosphere shifted from terror to sunshine and rainbows in the blink of an eye. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, the forest brat was actually squirming and bouncing in place excitedly, looking so elated to see a face; any face, if it meant finally being able to talk to someone. He didn't appear the least bit phased by the fact he was trapped in the darkest, tiniest cell imaginable and bound to the hilt in iron that it was nigh impossible for any able-bodied human to break free.

  
  


A feet most disturbing for two sheltered Chimera Ants with little interaction with these strange creatures.

  
  


“Oh, boy! I'm so happy someone finally opened the door. It's so stuffy in here. And I am _soooooo_ hungry!” The loud growl of a stomach affirmed this. “When is lunch? I think it's lunch time right about now. Are you guys the ones who bring lunch or are you here to check up on me? Cause my chains are a little tight.” He wiggled them, the clinking of metal on metal causing the two Ants to subconsciously back away further. “Would you mind loosening them? Oh! And also. Have you two seen Aunt Mito or Oba-chan? I can't really remember what happened or how I got here, but I would really appreciate if you told me! Oh! Oh! And-”

  
  


The cheery, sing-song voice coupled with the damnedest happiest grin humanely possible was too much for either Ant to handle. The higher ranking fish-man promptly slammed the door shut as soon as he had opened it, effectively silencing that shrill sound from their ringing ears. There were some subdued muffles, but nothing was understandable enough to make out. They turned to each other, expressions devoid of emotion and eyes sunk back into their skulls for safety. Both were quivering from the tips of their toes up.

  
  


“Yeah. He's truly terrifying.”

  
  


“Insane I say. Missing most of his screws, even.”

  
  


“Pretend this never happened and tell no one?”

  
  


“Pretend this never happened and tell no one.”

  
  


Both men immediately walked off, quick in the step if anything to get the furthest away from that thing as fast as possible.

  
  


Neither would admit they just shit their pants, but at least it was a secret best shared between them.

  
  


And both agreed in the end; humans were truly _crazy_ creatures.


	2. Playing hide & seek with Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Infiltrating the base and rescuing captive prisoners from monstrous blood-thirsty creatures was the easy task. Dealing with a mysterious, bratty teenager and all the surprises he had in store, not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an awful habit of being overly descriptive and shit. I can't be saved. Sorry. But enjoy anyway 8D Thanks so much you guys for the recognition so far. ashjkd;l 
> 
> SUPER LONG FORESHADOWING FTW.

**2**

 

“ _It's dark in here and we can't see shit. Great. Just fucking great.”_

 

“ _It's not that dark.”_

 

“ _It's dark moron. You can't see anything in here. Pitch. Fucking. Black. Darkness.”_

 

“ _Ne, Ne, Killua. Don't say that! Hey! Did you know that if you squint hard enough, sometimes you can see light dancing in the shadows? That means nothing is ever truly pitch black.”_

 

_A laugh, one that was obviously taking it as a joke. Then a scoff, offended, because it was being serious._

 

“ _Really? Where did you come up with that? It sounds really stupid. 'The light in shadows'? Come on! Everyone knows there's no such thing as finding light in somebody's shadow. It wouldn't be called a SHADOW if it wasn't meant to be DARK just like there is no such thing as white in something that is pitch black.”_

 

“ _Whatttt? What do you mean stupid? It's true! You can see it if you look really close! Everyone has it! Mito-san told me so herself and I saw it!”_

 

“ _Yeah, yeah. Sure thing genius. Keep telling yourself that.”_

 

_High-pitched childish whines made another laugh sound. Amused._

 

“ _Killuaaaa! You're so mean!”_

 

“ _I'm not mean, idiot! I'm just stating a point! How is finding light in the darkness relevant to anything? Are you forgetting out current predicament? I mean, look at us. We're on the verge of death, alone where no one will be able to save us, and you're babbling about how you see dancing lights in the SHADOWS! Has all that blood loss made your brain die too soon or what?”_

 

“ _No.” The retort was hot, still full of piss and vinegar when what had been said was actually quite true. “I'm not dead yet. And neither are you! But I thought you could use some cheering up in this shitty ass place so I'm NOT sorry for saying something positive and hopeful just because it's TRUE!! You do have light in your shadow Killua! And now is a better time than any to tell you it so you better listen!”_

 

_A pause, then, “...Huh?”_

 

“ _Killua. I know you've always thought you are like some kind of shadow that nobody cares about but I just wanted to point out NOW that they're all wrong! You're wrong! You're not just darkness. You're light, too! You have good in you and you have light. I can see it in your shadow when you walk. When you're sleeping too! Wherever you go, I see it! That's why I want you to stay positive and not give up hope. We're still alive. We're still light! We'll make it through this together. I know it!”_

 

_A rustle of movement. A finger must had been pointing at said shadow now._

 

“ _What are you...? Wha-??” The words were there on the tip of the tongue, but lips refused to roll the rest right out._

 

“ _I'm serious, you know. There's light in your shadow, Killua. If you squinted just a little when you looked behind you, you would actually see it.”_

 

“ _Gon...”_

 

“ _Killua.”_

 

_If he looked behind himself, huh? The only thing that he could imagine whenever he looked behind himself was Gon, smiling that big goofy grin of his with that spiky black hair and tan skin. Round face, broad build, and out stretched hand, waiting._

 

_And it was only directed at Killua._

 

_The light that was behind him, beckoning, radiant as it silhouetted that Gon Freecs brighter then the sun._

 

_He WAS the sun._

 

_The feelings for that light of his; the one cast in the shadows at his side, bubbled to the surface, instantaneous. Unrelenting, but real._

 

_Oh, so, real._

 

“ _Gon, I-”_

 

_The words cut from his mouth in the high-pitched wail of an explosion that shook the world around them. It was then that everything became true pitch blackness, but if Killua squinted even in the slightest, he swore he saw a speck of light in the distance._

 

_That idiot was speaking the truth after all._

 

_Heh._

 

* * *

 

 

“Is everyone ready and prepared?”

 

“ _AYE!_ ”

 

All the cries and cheers of the fleet rang through their encampment, fists pumping in the air and weapons waving in replacement of a team represented banner. Everyone around them seemed high on good hopes this morning; a plus in Leorio's mind as he, too, joined in the familiar jubilant cheer of boosting one's battle spirits. That was one thing he really admired about Hanzo. He had a natural talent to spur people's hearts into action, a figurehead that shined whenever the dark threatened to take over. It was uplifting, and that damned nicest guy around was always one for the team even if his life were in danger.

 

He'd jump in the fray and risk everything if it meant backing any one of them up. No regrets.

 

Out of the corners of his eye, Leorio checked out his teammates, not surprised how Killua; always furthest from the crowd and hovering at the rear, was the only one who didn't join the people in their war-ready rally. He often wondered if the still-expressionless male could feel any sense of emotion at this point in time, not even when surrounded by such adrenaline-raising vigor. It didn't appear to effect in him the least. He was motionless and silent like always, gaze unfocused as he stared away from the others, lost in that daydreaming numbness they all could relate to.

 

Leorio truly felt sorry for him.

 

“Come on, Leorio, everyone is moving to their stations now.” Kurapika nudged his companion out of the medic's deep, bottomless thoughts, smiling to offer what little reassurance he could. “Let's not get left behind. Do I need to remind you what happened last time you were late?”

 

“Right. Right... I'm coming, sheesh! Like I need a repeat of _that_ incident.” The elder man laughed at another long standing joke, back of his neck rubbed abashedly while he followed the blonde, not glancing back this time at the white-haired teen. He'd feel the pity tug at his heart strings and as they were already just moments away from attack; he did not need the distraction.

 

Not in every day’s gamble with life or death. War was not a game.

 

He didn't intend to play it like one, either.

 

Of the 46 members in _**Silver Squadron 2: West Division,** _ 16 of them were of the medical team. Leorio actually headed the group, which left 30 divided into the assault faction. Kurapika was part of the rescue portion (ranked in the top 10 for skills, not to boast) but would occasionally lend his healing abilities to assist the other medics; though he was limited unlike Leorio's 'seemingly' infinite-less _Nen_ life force; he would brag, when it came to caring for the wounded. The dang oaf would never admit to his exhaustion or lacking strength, which left the task up to Kurapika to stop him when necessary. The guy would suck every last drop of life he had left if it meant saving someone; a habit that would never die off, and neither would he regret over, either.

 

But the Kurta still cared, still needed his friend through these tough times. And if it meant having him sit down for a break at least once in a great while, then so be it. He would have his way and Leorio would give in. That was how strong their bond excelled.

 

 _ **Silver Squadron 1: West Division**_ was the primary fighting battalion, although they rarely assisted the rescue team on such small missions like these (unless an absolute emergency arose). Several of their friends were stationed there; skills more better suited for the raging heat of combat then the rescue squad who played it more stealthy and consecutive like refined warriors. They had more faith in their abilities; the team almost undefeated in the past two months since their formation. They were second in terms of strength and ability to that of the _**Gold Squadrons**_ which comprised of several Hunter Association's leaders and strongest remaining members, which was a feat to be proud of. All squadrons were designated by the names of precious metals and gems (because someone at the head of office was too lazy to come up with better). _**Diamond Squad**_ was the rarest and strongest of all the jewels; consisting of the remaining top Hunters across the nation including the Chairman Netero himself. They were most likely far off into the thick of the war right about now, ever so slowly advancing upon wherever the Chimera Ant's leader may be.

 

It was nightmarish thinking what it was like, but there was no time to dwell too long on it.

 

The group split into their appropriate formations; set number three of five different plans they had drilled over until they could repeat it back in their sleep. 8 Medics to 15 Attackers dividing their entire faction in half; it was the simplest arrangement they could come up with. They were split into two sections and were to take the three pronged building from both the south and north side.

 

As the door's entrances were located primarily on the east flank, that left the other three sides mainly unguarded. The west even only had two guards; a sad excuse for a defense system. Surprisingly, this last prison hold was the smallest and least organized of the other previously freed ones, considering how usually the last stronghold would typically be saved as the worst. This would be a cinch for the _**Silver Squad;** _ Hanzo had informed his troupes, inspiring them with the desire and willingness to fearlessly fight today.

 

Anything if it meant the least bloodshed spilled possible.

 

Leorio begrudgingly followed behind his fellow medic friends; made up of primarily females (everyone prefers women nurses wink wink), as they trotted fast through the thick forestry that surrounded the final stockade. Already, all around him; everyone had brought fourth the usual technique of _Zetsu_ (a Nen or 'life force' ability that conceals ones' presence and aura by trapping it into the pores of their own body). Luckily, most Chimera Ants save for the higher ranking individuals (which were primarily near the front lines), were unable to use or detect _Nen_ , so adding _Zetsu_ added onto their already camouflaged selves made for the perfect stealthy disguise.

 

Kurapika was right on his tail, following so fast that his short blonde locks would sway back and forth with every step. Whenever they would separate into groups, two thirds of the 'attacking' members would split up as the front and rear guards of the mass. The last third would bunch together with the accompanying medics, making for a evenly based set-up. It covered all the openings tactfully, an important strategic maneuver for fighting super-human anthropomorphic Chimera Ants. They were unpredictable. It was best to be as prepared as possible.

 

This time around; to the two male's surprise, they were being lead by that cool-headed albino; Killua, instead of Hanzo like usual. Killua may not have been in second command; that was Pokkle's duty (who was quite a strategist yet not very offensive), but wherever he was assigned he usually would take the lead with no complaints. He had an unnatural sense of obedience when it came to following an order to the tee. It was similar to that of a robot forced to follow certain instructions without fail, strangely unnatural as Leorio would always put it.

 

On top of that; his skills were infamous, most notorious for his quick reflexes and speed with solid power to boot. Killua was practically invincible.

 

_Monster._

 

It took only minutes to arrive at their positions: their group nicknamed 'Green' for today (they had a habit of choosing colors for lack of a better name, too tired to ever come up with anything more extravagant), and just seconds to station themselves behind a nice thick bush for cover. Just ahead, they could make out five Chimera Ant guards. Two of a horse-cross, one hawk, a rhino-cross, and a bear; all formidable animals with primitive and animistic drive. Their bodies were huge; all obviously male, and each one intimidating its own distinct way. Three carried large, monstrous firearms while the other opted for more traditional hand-to-hand combat weapons.

 

At first glance and judgment this set of five would be a tricky fight.

 

But they were Hunters. Like _Hell_ they could be defeated that easily.

 

“Is everyone ready?” Pokkle whispered from the center of the group, his own grip tight on the bow and arrows he fought with. Silent nods all around, eyes focused and bodies poised to move; all aimed in the direction of the building straight ahead. “Good. On Hanzo's signal, we enter. Make sure you remember to distinguish the retreat signal from the signal of completion. Good luck.” Again, more small nods of approval. They had practiced this so many times; it was one with natural human instinct. But protocol was protocol and it had become easy to drown out the usual boring lecture, saving the better part of thought on mentally and physically preparing oneself to fight.

 

All focus was on the adrenaline that pumped frantic, fluttering hearts and the mingled breaths of lungs overtaxing themselves with oxygen for the rush to come.

 

They were ready.

 

**BANG BANG BANG.**

 

The signal boomed across the tree tops, startling the five Ant guards. Leorio's hands tightened instinctively around his belongings as his feet automatically propelled him forward, Kurapika tailing behind him. Everything always moved in such a blur when they first started. Whenever the fight begun, the world seemed to slow in motion. It all blended together in a quick, crazy mad rush of bodies, yells, and ear-splitting noises that rattled you to the core. It was normal for them; combat melding a place into their lives on a daily basis. It was nothing new. It was just a fact of life.

 

Killua was first; like usual, Leorio just barely making out the teenager speeding twenty steps ahead of everyone like a lightning blur. If you listened closely, you could almost make out the thunder-like boom when he took off, something that always seemed to warn you that Killua had activated his insane _Nen-_ ability. That was his own personal signal to stay back which no one dared challenge. He sliced through three of the guards in under ten seconds and had the other two's heads soaring through the air by the time the remainder had even traversed half the distance to the entrance. With a swift kick, the boy barreled through the door; lightning crackling at his feet into the squished maze-like hallways while the others began to file in with haste.

 

“Geez. Can the kid be any faster? What a showoff!” Leorio seemingly joked to himself out loud, pounding footsteps echoing across the halls. He knew it was a lie; Killua _could_ easily be faster. The guy had hardly put any effort into that move, even now as he probably darted around slaughtering everything in his path; Killua had still yet to use his full ability. They all knew this too well. That remained especially true for those who had seen the only time Killua had ever lost control; a story best left in silence for everyone's benefit. Even the doctor's throat went dry at the memory.

 

“Split up! Free the prisoners as you fight the Ants!” shouted Pokkle over the rumble and shake of the building while the earth-shattering explosions began sounding off, proof the other group had began their successful infiltration. When the pathway became many, the gang filtered themselves out accordingly; already well-trained and knowledgeable on the task at hand.

 

“This way!” Kurapika flagged Leorio down through the throw of chaos and fighting around them, guiding his friend down a clear path still sparking in the remains of Killua's tracks with fresh electricity and discarded bodies already been slayed. Heavy metal chains; crystal clear like pure silver, smashed purposefully through the nearest iron door, obvious that Kurapika had activated his own _Nen_ now. His seriousness was written plain on his face. His right hand shot out, the chains attached to it snaking around the fallen door and tossing it aside while Leorio rushed in and pried off the prisoner's chains using _Nen_ -enhanced hands. The frail, pale-white people in desperate need of sun were sobbing with relief and praise but had no time to give any while Leorio quickly ushered them out, pointing straight for the exit.

 

“Go, quick! Get out of here! Someone will show you where to go. Just run! RUN!”

 

The prisoners listened immediately, not sparing a glance or breath back while they ran for it. Imprisonment and fear would do that to a human, reducing them to their weakest state. Now a lesser version of themselves; they would listen to anything that was told of them. It was both a blessing and a curse in such a situation as real _war_ but no one dare contemplate the matter.

 

It was kill or be killed. And for them, it was flee or die.

 

Doors wrenched open and people escaped quick, both Leorio and Kurapika a well-versed team. They made their way down the halls in no time flat, sync at perfect level on the battlefield. At least forty-something people had been freed by the time they found themselves busting through the door leading into a giant storage room, presumably where they had kept their supplies and weapons just for this occasion. The walls were lined with cargo containers and boxes piled with goods, though there were few that remained upright and unopened compared to what disorder had obviously happened before they had arrived.

 

Already, in sight, stood the familiar pearly locks of the young Zoldyck at the foot of what could only be the remains of the leader to this complex. He had to be one of the largest Chimera Ants Leorio had laid his eyes on since they had entered this madness, something of a cross between a fox-bear (already big creatures in themselves) and an elephant. What was left of his status was shown by the symbol he bore on his chest, designating his position. But that was already torn to pieces also, matching the same state that blood-splattered male had left him in. His once white hair were coated crimson red, dripping fresh like the daggers protruding from his fingers. There had to be at least twenty more of the leader's lackeys strewn about, all in such disarray it was hard to tell who's limbs or bodies belonged to who.

 

A real massacre, one would call it. This is what it actually looked like in real life. And this is what it looked like for Leorio and Kurapika both who were still standing in silence at the doorway, unable to form a single coherent thing to their clamped shut mouths. What could they say?

 

This was reality. Their reality.

 

What snapped Leorio back to the current situation at hand had to be the fact his dark eyes fell upon the several good-sized steel pipes sticking straight through Killua's small, lithe torso, primarily on the right hand side just out of reach of his heart. It took him a moment to realize they were there, oozing around the corners of the openings, before his brain snapped into full gear and he shouted out in concern. “Killua! Holy _shit!_ You're hurt! We have to pull those pipes out right away or else-” Leorio made a move to go towards Killua, but was stopped by a swift, flat hand preventing him from walking forward.

 

Kurapika held him back, shaking his head while not dropping eye contact from their fellow teammate; however independent and 'non-teamplayer' he may be. “Don't get too close to him. He might attack you. He's not in the correct mindset right now and I highly doubt he'd even recognize us from the looks of it.”

 

Of course the doctor wouldn't care, too inclined to follow his natural instinct to help anyone he saw who needed it. And this was _Killua_ for that matter. The youngest teenage hunter that no one would even get within a few feet of let alone speak a word too even if it was from miles away. Although the whole squadron might reject him for his cold behavior, there was no way in hell he'd ever just ditch him to die. And Kurapika knew this, too, better than anyone. But his grip did not lessen and Leorio did indeed struggle, but not enough to break through, settling to squeeze the life out of his suitcase handle instead.

 

“Damnit.” He growled then yelled out into the building without regard to the possibility of revealing their location. “ _GOD DAMNIT_!”

 

“Leorio, be quiet or else they will-!”

 

Killua turned around suddenly to face them, cementing the two adults frozen in their tracks. All color drained from their faces, breath caught in their throats. The unbridled fear that bubbled to the surface was suffocating. Now he was in full view so they could plainly see those clear sapphire eyes reduced to a shell of themselves; devoid of anything but a dead shade of bottomless black. His pale skin was glowing with the blood painting his face in patterns from lines to splattered dots to thicker more solid masses blotching his clothes with their leech-like need to cling to their killer.

 

If Leorio were able to, he'd probably vomit right there and then, unable to take in the sight before him. He was stronger than that; a doctor able to take ever the craziest of bloody messes, but this was so much more different. This was horror at its finest. Terrifying. True death. And no mercy.

 

As Leorio unintentionally leaned forward and placed pressure on Kurapika's hand, who in turn instinctively reacted by pushing back; Killua darted past them in a blink of an eye. His claw-like hand dove through the chest of a Chimera Ant that had happened to creep up behind them, both of his giant crab-like claws just inches from sending the two still terror-stricken men to an early grave. Sizzling, hotter than coals, red liquid flew every which way, coating the backs of their uniforms in its burning heat still fresh from an abnormally hotter body. (Humans had a more normalized body temperature while Chimera Ants had an exceptionally higher one, beyond sustainability if science had anything to say about it.) The shriek the creature admitted was bone-chilling, his heavy weighted body thudding loud behind them once he ceased to exist.

 

“Killua-”

 

Out of nowhere, a wet cough emanated from their savior, shuddering from the strain of moving so fast with injuries in tow. Leorio flung himself around; both steaming from the fact he now had new stains to tend to and the crazy idea that _Killua_ of all people had actually made an effort to save their hind-ends. He wasn't sure which one had him on edge more. He didn't spend too long to think about it seeing as the Zoldyck wordlessly took off again, a bloody trail left behind from the wounds he had sustained. He didn't even think further than that when he was jumping over the body and making a mad dash down the hallway, Kurapika shouting for him to stop in the background, while he followed the tracks of that dumb ass in his haste to assist him.

 

There was no way he was going to owe that brat for saving them, that's for sure!

 

For being injured and having THREE bloody-ass metal shafts stuck in one's chest; most likely having damaged a lung, several ribs, and muscles for starters, Killua didn't seem the least bit hindered when he tore through seven more guards on his way down the long, narrow corridors.

 

“Stop! Wait!” Leorio called behind him, hot on the trail, ignoring the littered bodies he had to jump hurdles over in order to keep up. He was just too ridiculously fast for his own good. His patience wore thin, rounding another corner and climbing over another two bodies before he planted both his feet and roared at the top of his lungs, if anything to be noticed for once in his life by such an ignorant brat he swore he would pummel some sense into someday. “ _Shit_ , Killua, STOP RUNNING AND LET ME HEAL YOUR DAMN WOUNDS!”

 

Killua stopped, although it was only because he ran into a dead-end without bothering to notice. Leorio, too, noticed albeit late, and began walking forward very slowly, eyes glued to the poles shifting in place whenever Killua's torso rose and fell with each breath.  


“Alright,” He said, shoving his gun into its holster at his side and began fiddling with his medical briefcase, “If you just give me a moment, I can remove those things and heal you. You can't keep running around like some idiot with rods in your god damn chest! Do you want to die, moron? So let me-”

 

_**BANG CRASH.** _

 

If it were possible, the bespectacled man would have jumped fifty feet in the air if there was enough space to do so. His attention had been so utterly focused on healing him, he hadn't realized the teen happened to have been standing before a rather large, decorative steel door. Most likely it was holding a prisoner, but judging on the number of locks and security devices holding it shut; it had to be of someone with great importance. Or threat to the Ants, that too, he guessed. It was numbered '1' for a reason.

 

The once heavily guarded door caved inward at the swing of Killua's punch. It was emitting a high-pitched screeching as the hinges gave up on keeping it pinned in place and the giant piece of metal went crashing to the floor in front of him when he yanked it back through the gaping hole. Without bothering to wait to check if the coast was clear, Killua stepped into the wreckage of the small, cramped jail cell where parts of the upper ceiling and walls had fallen from the disruption of explosions and quakes. He kicked aside several big rocks and bent forward to examine the chained-up figure shadowed by the surrounding darkness.

 

To his mild surprise (lately it had been mostly women and very young children they rescued from Whale Island's prison keeps) it was an exceedingly tan teenage boy; clearly around his age, with the freakiest and wackiest hair style imaginable, jet black locks that defied logic AND gravity combined. Glassed over, hazy golden yellow eyes were blinking up at him and he was _smiling_ actually as his lips parted and formed quiet, soft words that Killua could barely make out, before the boy slumped forward without warning. He wasn't sure if it was him reacting on pure reflex or what, but his hands shot out and he caught the guy before he fell too far forward and possibly dislocated his arms from the strain of being fettered to the upper walls.

 

Promptly, sharp nails sliced the metal binding him to pieces, ripping off the shackles that had been placed too painfully tight on bony wrists and ankles, despite how muscular the kid seemed to be beneath that shaggy-looking prison garb. His skin was unnaturally soft, smooth, and incredibly warm when the cell felt cold enough to bring frost to your breath. Killua almost wanted to drop him, already uncomfortable as it was to be holding someone else like this so carefully. It was disturbing.

 

“Killua! You-” Leorio piped up again only to stop when his sight fell on the two before him still huddled in the wreckage, having ventured close enough to stand a foot from the door way now. Kurapika had joined him finally, taking his side and soaked in the image before him, lips pursed in thought while his big, calculating eyes assessed their surroundings.

 

“That kid must be someone real important for them to have locked up in such tight security. I've never seen a door so heavily bolted in my life.” The chain-user noted, fingertips brushing the intricate design of a strong architecture that had now been smashed to dust by the bare hands of a prepubescent male, no less.

 

“That seems weird. Then wouldn't the Chimera Ants want to keep him someplace more secure? I mean, this place really wasn't very well guarded and-?”

 

Again, for the second time that day, Leorio was forced to stop talking when said imprisoned boy unceremoniously drops into his scrambling arms that barely make it in time to catch him. The two men look up, blinking rapidly in confusion at the sudden notion, only to see Killua's face completely shadowed by the shaggy bangs that guarded his eyes from view. His head was tilted down, causing the blood pooling from a now obvious wound on his skull to begin dripping down the sides of his cheeks. It was a shock to see how damaged the he really was since they had a much closer look at him. It wasn't just the iron rods that sunk Leorio's stomach to the pits of ruin. It was the broken, battered body of a sixteen year old teenager standing before them looking so soft, so vulnerable, that with one touch he would just shatter into pieces right at their feet. And to see him now; with hands kissed by death himself cradling another _live_ body with a gentleness only a mother could have, was totally unexpected.

 

But what was more unexpected came next.

 

“There, take him. He needs medical attention right away. You're a doctor right? You should be able to do it. Please.” They almost, _almost_ thought they heard a tiny whimper, but then again the air was filled with them. “Please, just help him.” His voice was an octave too high for what the pair thought _Killua Zoldyck_ would sound like, being that no one had actually ever _heard_ Killua talk before since he joined their battalion. The infamous 'cold-blooded killer' who charged ahead into the fray and slaughtered with such emotionless, detached movements and fast, soundless skill only to leave behind a sea of red and black in his wake; was now standing before them at this very moment, asking them to help someone. Hell, it was enough of a surprise he was even _talking_ to them.

 

Jaw-dropped, Leorio and Kurapika could only stare, stunned to absolute silence, while Killua quietly walked past their rooted forms and trudged away, shoulders stiff and tense with hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks. The firmly lodged silver shafts clinked together with his footsteps. His head remained down, slumped, and it was just as they were turning around to watch him go (in Leorio's case, _try_ to say something and end up blabbering uselessly like an idiot), when a shrill bird-like whistle pierced through the inner walls and rung clear into their ear drums.

 

The signal of completion, proclaiming their victory. The signal that the building had been successfully taken over and the Hunters had won.

 

They had won.

 

But then why, was there this odd feeling that something was going to go awry? Why did they feel as if they had lost?

 

“Damnit, Killua.. You're so stupid.”

 

“So damn _stupid_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff might seem confusing at first but gets clarified later on yep yep. Thanks. ~


	3. How we waste Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meaning of friendship transcends boundaries. Take a breather, the reward goes a long way.
> 
> Brief Leopika bonding, deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't really like how I did this chapter but whatever. Gonna have bad ones and gonna have good ones. Will start picking up as we go along, just watch.
> 
> You gotta grin and bear it and keep right on trucking. *salutes* Enjoy.
> 
> I'm a closet believer that Kurapika secretly loves romance novels so ignore that weird ass detail I put in for my own personal satisfaction.

**3**

 

“One week reprieve, one week venture to The Republic of Padokia by boat, train, and blimp transfers, and one more week to set up camp and prepare for the infiltration of the next bases. I guess that seems logical enough, right? A three week plan, just in time to--”

 

Kurapika set down the clipboard detailing their next mission and proceeded to stare holes through the back of the ignorant skull who was currently trying not to nod off and drool all over the medicine he was placing together at his desk. Leorio's hands were starting to wobble with fatigue, half-filled tubes and vials barely clinging to his fingertips while he combined them for his medicinal potions. Kurapika could certainly see the toll it had taken upon the head doctor. The guy could barely keep his eyes open these past few days. They were so droopy. Having to manage all the new war prisoners AND wounded of an entire armament was more then one man could handle.

 

But Leorio's skill were also infamous like the Zoldycks, a powerhouse in his own right upon the medical field. Often or not, the young adult would be hailed as a prodigy, an enigma to the world when it came to medicine yet one of great magnitude and importance. Some called it a gift, a natural talent. Others call it God's will and many other crazy, religious things he never bothered to remember for too long. They were too hard to keep track of after awhile with all the wild rumors that came up.

 

Only, none of that was true.

 

Leorio was just Leorio; a man that studied diligently and dedicated his life to his work. It had nothing to do with natural talent or God's gifts or any of that nonsense and mumbo jumbo.

 

He put his mind to his research and training and this is the result of his efforts.

 

A medical genius. An expert doctor.

 

A Hunter.

 

Walking over, smiling slightly to himself in his own amusement; Kurapika gently flicked the back of his friend's neck and forced a surprised yelp from his lips. He was so startled that he begun to flail his arms in an attempt to stop himself from throwing the tubes in his hands into the air.

 

“Ow! Kurapika,” grumbled Leorio, setting aside his equipment to glower at the flaxen head of hair behind him smirking in triumphant, “What was that for? Can't you see I'm trying REALLY hard not to just launch these tonics all over the place? I've been working nonstop since we've been swarmed! You know I can't-”

 

A finger to his lips made the bespectacled man halt in his tracks and blink dark eyes up at lighter ones, brow raised in earnest. “I know, Leorio. You have been working real hard and I've been doing my best to assist you along with all my other usual duties. But, you know, you ought to take a break now and again. It took me 10 minutes to force you into taking a break the last time and that was only 4 hours ago. Please? All the Whale Island citizens are flourishing because of you and the wounded are completely taken care of since you've treated them. Let the nurses do their job at least for ONCE in a great while, hm?”

 

Seconds passed with Leorio staring blankly at his best friend, sharing a look of stubborn silence that soon gave way to a defeated sigh. Kurapika smiled softly, giving a thumbs up in his own silent victory and Leorio scoffed aloud. “Fine, fine. ONE BREAK. That's it. Then I'll get back to finishing this last batch of medicine so I can give it to those sickly old folk who really need it.”

 

“One hour.”

 

“Ten minutes.”

 

“One hour.”

 

“Half an hour!”

 

“One hour.”

 

“Forty minutes?”

 

“Two hours.”

 

“\---You can't go extending it! That's unfair! You cheat!”

 

“Then take one hour or else I'll make it MUCH longer!”

 

Leorio tossed his arms up, abruptly standing from his chair and huffed like a child that lost its way. He knew better then to play too long with the blonde, less he be dangling from the ceiling in chains for hours on end subjected to the torture of having an endless earful of Kurapika's oh-so-joyous _romance novels._ (He said they were good for the soul. But so was porn, Leorio fought and lost that battle. It still didn't stop him.) “Fine, fine. One hour. I promise this time.”

 

Kurapika nodded, pulling his friend by the arm without further delay (because he knew if they lingered too long Leorio would find some crazy excuse to go back to work), and hauled him out of his small, cramped office. It wasn't the best place to work as a doctor, but it did its job. Heck, most of the entire facility wasn't much better. Small, narrow sleeping halls with bunk-bed cots to sleep on and several smaller buildings were lined almost wall to wall with more beds and cots for the sick and wounded. The dining hall could occupy maybe a third of the recruits at a time; most people opting to eat outside anyway. Even Hanzo had a tiny little office to work with.

 

It was too squished, too cramped, too tight; but this was the First Great Hunter War.

 

War didn't surmount to having extravagant rooming for its soldiers, didn't have housing or lodges built to accommodate mass quantities of rescues. It didn't have fine dining in big, fancy kitchen halls or full-furnished offices to work in. Nothing was nice or new. Or even clean for that matter.

 

It was reality and reality meant having something convenient, doable, and inconspicuous. It didn't make room for comfort or class nor did it have the time.

 

If it meant abandoning base then no one would bat an eye to see the place burn down in flames.

 

Once the Kurta was able to drag Leorio away more then twenty feet from his office without too much hassle (usually his limit before struggling to break free and flee back) he settled into a more comfortable pace while they wandered down the small, empty passageways leading maze-like around the forest base. His grip remained firm on Leorio's arm, noting how the man swayed a little with every step and constantly rubbed the impending sleep from his eyes after a few yawns or so.

 

“Let's get something to snack on. That might help wake you up a bit.” suggested Kurapika, turning a corner to step outside into the cool, brisk air of approaching dusk. Whale Island surely did have an interesting sky; its mornings a pale mix of icy blue and frosty white with nights blending from fiery colors into a deep, radiant purplish hue until eventually fading off into blackness. But this blackness was never truly solid, always dotted and speckled by thousands upon differently sized stars. It was breathtaking, he would admit. He never quite known a sky to be so open and innocent like Whale Island, given that it was indeed a time of bloodshed and conflict. But it's affects didn't seem to have spread along the small coastal island, leaving it pure and unscathed as a newborn star. 

 

If only he could say the same for the island's inhabitants and what remained.

 

Of the 74 people they rescued from this last force-hold, only 28 lived to see the next day. He couldn't fathom the brutality these people had suffered in their days being jailed. The Chimera Ants had been exceedingly vengeful this time around. So many had been ravaged by injuries and fatal wounds alike, not even counting the many more battling sickness and life-inducing illnesses. Even Leorio struggled to find cures in time, only to stand before the bed of another body covered by that familiar white sheet veil, tears spilling freely down his cheeks in mourning.

 

They had rescued so many, Kurapika remembered, only to take a huge loss in turn. They were lucky this time in the fact that their squadron remained equal in numbers, only 9 wounded and mostly minor and fixable. One of them in 'particular' was in critical condition. And yet, he still hadn't bothered to show his stubborn, bratty face even after three days in and no concern for Leorio's impeding stress levels ready to burst if he didn't find the damned fool. Killua must had been avoiding them like the plague since that incident for whatever excuses he could only fathom were probably made up.

 

If it was going to be like that, then the Kurta would make sure he did something the next time they crossed paths. Kurapika didn't mind seeing a sad weakness in even the most strong. Actually, he admired the people who had the strength in order to do so. To see a grown man fall to his knees and weep real tears in true, unbridled pain and anguish was nothing to be ashamed of. But to see someone so utterly _stupid_ as to not seek help when their life was possibly threatened, if not already being threatened and failing fast; made his golden-yellow hair stand on edge and his ominous eyes glow their true shade behind his pair of cheap, cruddy black contacts. 

 

He would knock some sense into that kid, that was certain.

 

One tray piled high with all sorts of energizing pieces of 'brain-food' Leorio called it (meat, meat, and more meat) and another tray with a minuscule amount of food (They all raved how Kurapika ate like a pregnant woman and later ground them to the dust with his chains without remorse) found the two men seated in the furthest back corner of the dining hall. It was hardly filled with but a small handful of others trying to shovel any last bits of their dinner down before closing time. If it were creditable for such a generously nice leader, Hanzo had to be at least strict when it came to the facilities 'lock-down' time. A strict bedtime curfew and closing of the dining hall. After the last time he let his recruits stay up drinking and partying away well into the morning and leaving behind the ugliest mess possible; he would not tolerate another foolhardy mistake like that ever again.

 

Unsurprisingly, Leorio began to gobbled his food in his trade-mark sloppy style as soon as he hit the bench. Alongside the brutally flying edibles, Kurapika was already well prepared with napkin shields and extra paper plate to pick up the bigger pieces that just refused to be devoured in such a ridiculous manner as that gruff man could only do. Being buried in the trash sounded better. But as time stretched and his exhaustion became more noticeable, he slowed to a considerable speed and began to chew his food more thoughtfully. His eyes cautiously gazed over Kurapika's careful and polite way of eating that he swore snails ate faster then he did. And turtles, slugs, lava, yada yada.

 

Most of his thoughts and opinions made no sense whatsoever, but what the hell, he still had them.

 

“So, how many of these prisoners enlisted this time, Kurapika? I know we haven't had much luck in recruiting since Whale Island isn't a very populated place. No one here seems like the 'war-type' you know?” It was Leorio who had the audacity to strike a conversation first following their long, awkward silence spent eating their food in peace. His expression showed his eager yet curiousness need to have a decent conversation with his buddy after so long. They hadn't had any time since arriving, prep, the mission and now the aftermath to actually have a real talk; even if it meant discussing matters of the group. It was better than nothing at all.

 

“Only three able bodied men of the last survivors.” Kurapika hummed past a sip of his steaming brewed green tea, “Tomorrow they will be shipped off like usual to the back lines where they will probably be assessed again before the final decision is made. They cannot use _Nen_ nor do they have an inkling of a clue what it is, so most likely they'll end up as fodder for the cattle that leads off to slaughter.” He bit his lip, eyes clouded with a known regret they all shared. “We all know where that goes, after all.” He added as an afterthought, staring forlornly at the crumbs left on his plate with a sad smile.

 

It was true. Without  _ Nen,  _ most humans were powerless to fight the Chimera Ants, no matter how strong or fast you were physically. Weapons were mainly useless, guns and bombs just barely grazing their tough skins and hides. Being smart didn't even have a perk. The creatures far outmatched the human species by many obstacles, ascending all of life's hurdles beyond the norm. 

 

There was no considerable match in trying to beat something much stronger, smarter, and _alien_ then the human race. It was pointless. Stupid.

 

A death wish.

 

“And when do they plan to ship out the remaining survivors? We have four more days before we set off towards Padokia. I can't imagine the Association letting us just leave these poor defenseless people to fend for themselves.” inquired Leorio next, picking distractedly at half a chunk of steak still clinging to his platter in its thick, flowing juices. Despite the ridiculously tiny facility, they were well fed and cared for; for a soldier that didn't have their basic needs well-kept would serve little for the never ending carnage. That was a plus in any situation like these dire times.

 

“They leave the day before we do, headed for the most recently added safe house built off the coast of Zevil Island. They're starting to fill up fast and can only build to keep up with the demands of protection for the world's ordinary citizens. I heard from Hanzo the Chairman and the Association are pressed on accommodating space for noncombatants and those who are willing to fight on the battlefield, especially with the Chimera Ants surging fast on the borderlines between continents.”

 

“The war's picking up it's pace more isn't it? Just when I was hoping we might make a breakaway through it.. we always seem to be pushed back further with each new day. This is beyond ridiculous.”

 

Kurapika's inclined his head, gaze following suit. “I agree. This is, but what can we do? We're just-”

 

“Two Hunters, I know. Two Hunters, powerless and weak and hardly anything compared to what the Association is. We're absolute _worthless shit_ compared to them. But there has to be something, somebody! This can't be how it'll all end, right?” Leorio glanced over at his other comrades, laughing and smiling in their own personal chit-chat at their tables filled with delicious food and drink for their own leisure. It sunk a disconcerting pit to the bottom of his stomach, digesting uncomfortably in his thoughts. How could they be so ignorant at a time like this? Did they not remember the position they were in at this very moment?

 

And more importantly, what were they fighting for then, if this was all for nigh? Was there really nothing any of them can do but wait for death to take them away? Where was the hope?

 

Kurapika seemed to notice the subtle change in Leorio as his face became more broodier, emotional, and he tentatively reached out a hand to settle reassuringly over the older male's own larger one. A smile, a warm, heart-felt one that always seemed to brighten the doctor's bitter days of empty, hollow nights that were cold and lonely; it put him at ease and relaxed immediately at the knowing touch. He nodded, pressing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “I know, I know. Before you tell me. I know.” His own smile responded. “Thanks, Kurapika, for being there. I appreciate it, man.”

 

A laugh, a genuine one that wasn't so weighted down by the lead heavy in their hearts. It sat right in his gut, comforting. “Don't get sentimental on me or I'll really chain you up for good this time. And you'll just love the new books I received too. They're especially cheesy just for you.”

 

Mock gags and retching received Leorio a hot, dagger-piercing glare and a whack with an empty cup to the face before he whined, bowing his head apologetically, “Okay! Sheesh! I get it! Stop torturing me! You're worse then the Ants!!”

 

The two men laughed for a great while thereafter, finding themselves sinking into idle conversations that had no direct plot or subject; the words falling freely from their lips like old times. It was all natural, no negative emotions to hold them back, just small laughs and big smiles exchanged with silly words and witty banter. It took the boulder-heavy stress off the weight of their shoulders, though only for a little while, but it was much appreciated. Much needed, actually, and they spared no qualms in outwardly showing it. The affects inwardly were kept much more closely to the heart than either of them thought.

 

Just like best friends should.

 

_Ring ring._

 

The bell rang, signaling it was time to close-up and the two adults took to their feet, garbage and trash ready on emptied plates. Once the clean up was finished and all good nights passed around with tired, cheery voices, they stood before the door of the infirmary sharing small glances here and there. It was a lanky uncomfortable pause before Leorio finally spoke up again. He always seemed to be the more daring one of the pair.

 

“Well, I better be getting back to work. I should have that medicine finished within the hour.” A hearty sigh. “Hey, Kurapika. I'll see you tomorrow, alright? And thanks, too, for persuading me to take a break.” He rubbed an eye but smiled past his fist anyway. “I guess I really do lose track of time when I'm busy working in that stuffy office. It's nice to get some fresh air now and again. Really clears my head. So, thanks. DON'T CHAIN ME UP EITHER PLEASE!” He added that last bit with a flurry of hand waving gestures and audible childish whines that made the shorter one chuckle bemusedly.

 

“Your welcome, you dumb oaf. Don't stay up too much longer, alright? I'll know.” Two fingers aimed his way and Leorio swallowed from the knowing gesture. “See you tomorrow, Leorio.”

 

“See you, Kurapika.”

 

Soft pitter patter of feet let Kurapika know Leorio was making his way safely back to his office to conclude his day's work and earning himself a good night's rest in his own personal bedroom. Hanzo insisted that the 'best' doctor and head of their medical treatment at least get decent enough attention to do his job properly and _stop sleeping and drooling all over the supplies for once in his damn life_ _and instead sleep and drool all over his own BED_ so of course he was given a much better accommodation to sleep on. It was a step up from those rusty, creaky cots the others had to at least attempt to shut their eyes and pretend to be resting on. Usually.

 

It was something you got used to after a hard days work of training, working, fighting, and thereafter. Most of the time you wouldn't even notice your body touching the cot actually. As soon as you hit the mattress, the lights went out and you would fall into a sense of weightlessness and emptiness that could only be described as sleep.

 

“I should probably be sleeping myself.” Kurapika mumbled his thoughts out loud, shuffling quietly through the brush of the forest their base was hidden beneath. It was a dense forest indeed, canopies of trees sheltering the tops of their roofs in such a way that you could not make them out even from a close-up aerial view. Their giant girths and trunks hugged the buildings closely, as if to shelter them like a mother protecting her children. He sensed the forest knew their good intentions and that was why it seemed to draw towards their fort; unlike how it was so withdrawn and broken around wherever the Chimera Ants took residence.

 

Tree roots would be uprooting and destroying the grass floor around them and many trees seemed to have purposefully stopped growing leaves or shed them all to uncover the rotten, unholy disgrace that was hidden beneath. Branches fell often and the only thing for cover were the thorny, brittle bushes that lined those 'torture chambers'.

 

Mother Nature supported them in this war at least, that, Kurapika was thankful for.

 

As he lazily made the journey back to the sleeping den, he stared up at the starry sky stretched out over the horizon. It was a inspirational sight, magical even. The more he watched, the more in awe he became, until he was so utterly absorbed in its beauty he might as well count on being lost.

 

If Kurapika had to admit to it, he would say he had a love for life's natural appearance and had a habit of picking out the parts he found most interesting. The things that were pretty, gorgeous, delicate, soft, beautiful, amazing, unique, etc. The list ran on, and the longer he gazed above, the further he found himself thinking over all the great details of the sky. He may not had been as scholarly as Leorio, but he found a semblance in the bigger picture of things.

 

His train of thoughts derailed, however, when he watched the twinkle of a rather big star catch the corner of his eye and he blinked, almost as if taken away by the luminescence it produced before he dropped his chin and caught sight of something just as  _ bright  _ and white as the star.

 

A full head of snowy hair perched atop a familiar teen's angular face; the exact one he promised to give a good beating to in the near future, was standing right across from him looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Unfortunately, the only thing he could make out was his face illuminated by the small lamp up above on the building so he wasn't able to see the state of his body since their last encounter in those dark corridors.

 

Seems the future caught up with him sooner than expected.

 

“Wait, Killua!” Kurapika found himself saying all too fast, realizing that the moment he had spoke alerted the other he had indeed been spotted (guessing he was probably trying to go by unnoticed) and immediately bolted off behind the complex Kurapika had been walking towards. The blonde jogged off knowing full well he couldn't match the teenagers speed but at least wanting to put _some_ effort into catching him before he escaped.

 

His slip-on flats skittered on the uneven terrain and he swung his body around the corner, twisting in place, and was just moments to calling out to the fleeing albino he could barely make out in the distance before he felt something rather warm and hard press into his chest. They fell back the instant he jumped back out of pure reflex, only relaxing a little once he caught sight of the familiar clothes he remembered when rescuing said dark-skinned prisoner from the rubble of that cell.

 

“ _It's that kid again. The one held in high security.”_ Kurapika hummed in thought, watching them yelp and a loud, indescribable noise emitted from his stomach. He recognized a sound of hunger pain when he heard it, but the face he made to it was probably quite humorous, both not expecting to hear one so loud and proud or the odd gurgling sounds that seemed to had mixed in with it. 

 

Honey auburn eyes caught his own and blinked up at him inquisitively, a grin gracing his lips that made a weird sensation crawl up into Kurapika's chest. A hot, soothing feeling he couldn't pinpoint, yet did not reject.

 

_What is this?_

 

It took him a moment, but while he struggled to organize his thoughts into something coherent; he felt those big round eyes staring determinedly at him, to the point of discomfort. Waiting for an answer; demanding an answer even.

 

And to think, all he could manage was a pathetic “Eh???” instead of something more understandably intelligent.

 

More, well, not stupid after all.

 

_Darn you, Leorio. Your idiotic nonsense is rubbing off on me. And your exhaustion._

 

_Mostly your stupidness though._

 

Kurapika would make a mental note to spend a little less time around that guy. He was influencing him in a not-so-good way.

 

Or he could just chain him up and give him a good lecture.

 

Yeah, that would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS YOU AWESOME COOLIEST (ITS A WORD NOW STFU) PEOPLE. I appreciate the support.


	4. Dangling hopes by a String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon finds a little bit of hope in the smaller things and Kurapika finds something since the war started that actually sparks his interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains minor OC's and I personally want to avoid using any OC's in this story as much as possible. It was just random and for minor plot development.
> 
> HIATUSxHIATUS FORCED ME TO POST THIS so i combined two chapters into one long one so enjoy or else. Check out her awesome war AU too 'Purple Heart' b: because I said so.
> 
> This is kinda pointless but there's a few parts that are relevant as the characters all start meeting each other. And to think I haven't even begun the action haha.

**4**

 

“ _Gon! Run!”_

 

“ _Get away from here! Please!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHAHA.”_

 

“ _No! I can't, I have to save you! Leave them alone!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”_

 

“ _Please! STOP THIS! STOP IT! DON'T DO THIS!”_

 

“ _Run!”_

 

“ _Gon!”_

 

“ _Get away from them or I swear I'll kill you!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”_

 

“ _STOP!!!”_

 

“ _GON!”_

 

“ _NOOO!!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHA!”_

 

When Gon had eventually broke the surface of his fleeting consciousness, he found his body snapping forward and his eyes flying open with a scream just on the tip of his tongue but not quite able to make it past his lips. The laughs that had been plaguing his mind subsequently faded into nothing but a quiet murmur granting it did nothing to calm the cold, icy chills worming its way up and down his spine. He wiped the gathering sweat on his brow, feeling the dampness beneath his loose fitted hospital garb he must had been dressed in while unconscious.

 

Gon immediately recognized where he was at; looking awfully similar to the small clinics his aunt took him whenever he needed a health check up. Only, this was so much larger and there wasn't cute little tapestry or calming, happy pictures hanging on the wall of baby animals and beautiful floral. It was much more plain, spacious, and noticeably more dark and quiet. Not even the low, even breaths of those gathered around him could be heard. And Gon had exceptional hearing, too.

 

It was a decent sized room, clean white cots spaced a few feet apart and every single one was filled with sleeping patrons. He saw familiar faces and heads of hair bundled under those thin ivory sheets, figuring they had to be some of the other Whale Island villagers that were imprisoned alongside him. There was something off about them, however, as every single one of them seemed to glow around the edges of their bodies with a thick, transparent mucus-like substance he was unable to properly describe. He guessed it may have been a trick of the light, opting to ignore it for the time being. Gon had just woken up after all. Someone had freed them and taken the courtesy to treat to them as well; that was what mattered first most.

 

Relief washed over him, thankful to finally be out of that cramped, sticky cell, and Gon found himself sighing contently for a change. Hazel eyes found their way to the only window in the room, seeing soft moonlight peek out from the closed curtains. It was night time. What day it was or how long he had been asleep; unfortunately, was lost to him. He glanced to his side next, noticing a glass of water left on a tiny table that was set next to each bed for their convenience. He took it without thought, chugging the cool, savory liquid in fast gulps that he started coughing as soon as he cleared the glass of its contents. It was refreshing, naturally. His throat was parched and he needed it.

 

_Guess I was more thirstier than I thought._

 

Now clear of the lingering haze from deep sleep, Gon quietly slid from his bed and into the soft slipper shoes left there for him as well. They were his size. Treading on the barest of his tip toes as to not wake anyone up, Gon made his way towards the nearest door and slipped through it with the smallest of sounds. This led him into a wide open hall flooded with warm light of the florescent bulbs buzzing overhead. His bronze skin relished the change from being secluded to the darkness for so long, even if it was fake compared to the true rays of real sun shine.

 

“Now, to find out where I'm at!” Gon beamed, randomly walking in a direction. It took him several minutes to find another door through the winding, tunnel-like hallways but he was pleasantly surprised to stumble upon a huge heap of loosely scattered belongings sitting in a pile right in the center. A lot of the goods were damaged, caked in blood, and mostly ruined. Wherever they had been locked up must have had them stowed away, not sparing a penny of a consideration to the state their things had been left in.

 

In the pile, he recognized his own back-pack immediately and dug into it without haste, not caring how the thing had magically appeared there as long as it had found its way back to him. He pulled out his coveted set of clothing; hand made by good ol' Aunt Mito, and discarded the scratchy rags he had been wearing for something much more homely and personal. The long forest green over-coat fit well over his dark navy tank-top and his skin clung to the fabric, appreciating the familiarity. He pulled on his matching shorts and calf-high boots with the eagerness of a child, giddiness radiating off in him waves.

 

Gon was so glad to be in something actually _his_ for once, it wasn't even funny.

 

Now fully dressed and feeling renewed with an adventurous vigor, Gon set off back down the path in search of something, anything to point him in the right direction. A direction that ought to answer his questions for him.

 

_Where was he?_

 

_What happened?_

 

_And where was his Aunt and grandmother?_

 

Five more doors and nothing but cot-filled infirmaries later found the Whale Island teen stumbling in on a much smaller room with only three beds filled, much to his surprise. There was also a woman nurse tending to one of the three men chatting among themselves in hushed voices. She had a scrawny body for someone who worked in the military, long black locks of hair that hadn't seen a shower in days; probably, with how brittle it looked. She seemed to be mumbling to herself while she worked which didn't bother the man she tended to in the least.

 

But it wasn't what Gon's focus zeroed in on. It was the recognizable face of one of the older men he remembered seeing visit Aunt Mito's bar on a regular basis. And they noticed him too, thin lips widening into a small smile, enough to thaw his heart of the earlier chill.

 

Banji.

 

“Gon, my boy! I'm glad to see you alive and well! Come here.” The man beamed, said teen bounding over to him in all excitement to see a friendly face. “How are you doing?”

 

“Good, Banji-san! I'm happy to see you too!” responded Gon, both hands pressed to the mattress as he leaned forward to get a better look at the guy. And now that he did, a hard lump sank in his chest like dead weight, crushing all that pent-up excitement he was felling not more then a second ago. A right leg and left arm missing. The remaining arm, broken, hanging limp in a make-shift cast. His bare torso was littered in cuts and bruises that surely would scar.

 

This flung him back into the clutches of reality, reminding him that not too long ago, he too had been in the hands of that prison. Subjected to their torment, their abuse, and helpless to escape.

 

It hurt more then words could describe and Gon could only settle in chewing on his lip to relieve the tension. His hyper-active tone was reduced to just a feeble whisper, hurt betraying his usual cheer.

 

“Banji-san... I'm so sorry. I didn't know.”

 

The elderly gentleman caught on to the younger boy's impending depression and lightly began to chuckle, nudging the youth's shoulder to snap him out of his reverie. “It's fine, Gon. Don't sweat it. I've taken more beatings from that gorgeous Mito-san of yours whenever I got too wild for her tastes.” He winked, just like he always did when discussing Gon's favorite mother-in-law in his presence, earning a much needed chuckle from the boy. “Speaking of which, have you seen her?”

 

“No. I haven't actually.” Now that he thought about it, when HAD he seen them last? It felt like a part of his memory had been temporarily erased and was nothing more then static and silence when he tried to think about it. The back of his skull ached whenever he tried to remember, so he chose not to linger on the thought for too long. Dealing with fatigue and pain right now just wasn't in his agenda. “Have you seen her?”

 

Banji shook his head, adjusting the sheet draped over his waist and pursued his lips, thinking. “No. I haven't been able to ask anyone yet, so I'm itching to get up and out of this smelly, uncomfortable bed and start moving!”

 

Again, both males shared another laugh, and Gon couldn't help but smile now. “That's just like you Banji-san. You never stop moving!”

 

“Indeed. I've decided to in list in the war and they promised to fit me with prosthetic limbs at no cost!” The wily old man squirmed ever so slightly in his impatience. “So as soon as we go out there and kick those creepy alien things' butts, the sooner I can get moving on my free new limbs and get back to some real good fishing.”

 

Gon's eyes widened in shock. Why would someone as old as him enlist? It was like walking to an early grave with the condition he was in. “You enlisted?! But why?”

 

Banji lifted his arm in its cast, somehow managing to press a finger to those chapped lips that had started to tremble like the rest of the sun-kissed lad. “Because, Gon. I'm not getting any younger and you can't expect me to sit around and do nothing. If I can contribute at least _something_ to get this war over quicker, then so be it! That's why I joined.”

 

Once that hard finger left his lips, Gon mumbled, blinking slow. “Should I join too then, Banji-san?” Gon hadn't really taken the time to consider it, but now that he thought about it.. could he be of any use for this war?

 

He had been told he had exceptional senses. Gon grew up in the forest, _lived_ and _breathed_ wildlife. If anyone had become one with nature, it was him. He knew of all the various poisoned plant life in the forest and he even went as far as to tame pretty much any animal he had come in contact with. All the flora he knew by heart and every name of every type of tree could be repeated in his sleep. But would someone growing up from the woods be of any use on a battlefield made of gunpowder and lead? A life living in the green couldn't simply just become _red_.

 

Would it really be that easy?

 

“That's entirely up to you, my boy. But I know with your capabilities and skills, you can go anywhere you want to in this world. You're strong and stubborn, just like any good man should be when protecting the things he cares about. You'll make it, rest assured.” Banji interrupted his thoughts, locking eyes with the other in all seriousness, “Just as long as you don't go off and die on me. I swear I will piss on your grave if that happens!”

 

Banji's words broke through his haze, filling Gon with great expectations for a promising future to come. The man was right. Gon couldn't give up just yet. “Ha ha! I'll really make sure I don't die then, Banji-san! That would be really gross!” He laughed, smiling down at his elder friend.

 

Atmosphere feeling much more lighter with that positive notion, Banji gave Gon a small pat on the back. “Get going, sonny. Can't keep your family waiting, now can you? I'm not sure where they are, but I am sure you will find them. Make sure to send my regards to that dear aunt of yours.”

 

“Thanks, Banji-san!” He nodded, high hopes returned to top form. “I'll find them!”

 

“I promise!”

 

* * *

 

 

_Thump._

 

Just on the verge of calling it a day after another two long hours of searching, Gon unexpectedly runs into somebody and knocks both of them backwards right as he finally landed himself outside. Clumsily, he landed on his bottom with an 'oof'. Gon had been so engrossed in finding his relatives that he dashed through corridors too fast to program them in his memory, only focused on finding the recognizable head of red hair or soft features of his grandma and aunt. As no one hence forth came remotely close to that, he was skipping through what would be his grand ' tour' of the giant fortress in in no time flat. Two hours and he finally found an exit.

 

It could have been worse. He could have escaped the Chimera Ant stronghold and been wandering around there, trying to find escape with tons of monsters racing to carve into his flesh. It sounded much more appealing to be getting lost in what he could only guess was a base for the war recruits who rescued them, then he could ever imagine running for your life in that hell of a nightmare-gone-real.

 

“S-sorry! That was completely my fault!” Gon apologized, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck while he caught a glimpse of the blonde in front of him who was disorientated from the sudden collision.

 

They were rather short for a dude; cropped golden locks framing an angled face that almost unmistakably appeared feminine at first sight. Gon actually had a double take just to confirm he hadn't been fooled. Quiet, small gray eyes (when did gray become an eye color?), blinked down at him, a look of concern mixed with genuine surprise gracing those balanced features. He wore very strange garb for someone working in the military; solid white trousers and long-sleeved shirt hidden by a huge decorative blue tabard. Orange designs embroidered the hems and formed a unique pattern on the front. What caught Gon's eye with interest the most happened to be the single ruby earring shaped a like a droplet hanging from his left ear. It glowed brighter then the low light shrouding his body in the moonlight.

 

_He's kind of pretty... For a guy!_

 

Realizing his own thoughts, Gon began laughing rather obnoxiously for someone who has just fallen on his bum and felt so guilty mere moments ago. Jumping to his feet and knuckles pressed into the small of his back, he grinned up at the new stranger. “Hello there! I'm-”

 

_GRRRRUMBLEE._

 

Both boys unblinkingly shared looks of confusion becoming dawning realization in a matter of minutes when Gon's stomach rumbled noisier than the first time, it's hungry, demanding growl loud and clear for all to hear. Even though it was just the two of them.

 

“Ah, man! I totally forgot to eat dinner!” He blurted out, whining affectionately while rubbing his aching gut as if to soothe its feeble protests. It wasn't. “I should have checked for food first before I came running out here.”

 

The short man's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, flapping like a fish out of water, which made Gon laugh in turn. “Sorry for running into you. Ahahah! I guess I'm just a little-” The insistent gurgling noise interrupted again and he snorted, “-A lot hungry! Hey, do you happen to know where I can get a bite to eat? I'm starving.”

 

“ _...Eh???”_

 

When Kurapika finally regained control of his thoughts and emotions, he stared at the ever present friendly face and big, honey speckled orbs intently focused on him.

 

It had taken him by surprise, really. The contrasting points of someone who was impossibly cheery and bright for a person who had just been saved from a torture-camp and subjected to _god-knows-what_ kind of brutality inhumanely possible was alarming to speak the least. The adolescent had a big sunshiny grin wedging between a pair of fairly good-sized ears twitching while he talked, reminding him of an excited dog. On the subject of psychoanalyzing this newcomer, Kurapika took the childish rambling as a moment to get a better look at the one before him, seeing as he never had a good chance since he was pulled from the wreckage and carted off into the infirmary.

 

This teenager had large round shaped eyes, a molten gold hue that faintly glowed in the dark. They were inquisitive and innocent, a trait reminding him of a canine. If those characteristics were anything to go by; he could guess this guy might also be both incredibly loyal and incredibly stubborn to a fault. He seemed pretty simple-minded right off the bat, flitting from one subject to another with a redundancy that reminded him of a long-time friend of his. It would do well to introduce them someday.

 

Their skin was deeply tanned, a common trait he noticed in most of Whale Island's citizens, but never quite as dark as his. He speculated that he may have spent much of his spare time outdoors to have his skin so accumulated to that particular color. His jet black hair stood unnaturally upright for a male, jutting out and spiked at emerald tinged tips. It was giving out an earthly glow when introduced to the little bit of light provided by the building and he bet it was even brighter in the daytime. The wafting scent of pine needles and mahogany wood greeted his nose, astonishing to breathe in when he had been withheld in a place probably reeking of blood and entrails for who-knows-how-long and still retained such a natural scent on him.

 

The teenager was also lean and muscular, well-endowed in his upper body strength with a proportionate set of legs. He was smaller than Kurapika by default (their age gap spoke for this), but only by an inch at best even with the knee-high boots he wore. His attire was entirely forest green from the long-sleeved jacket he wore to the smaller than necessary shorts and matching footwear. His chosen style didn't give off much outwardly presence, but it suited him in a rather odd, indescribable kind of way. Green was a color of the forest and this person had obviously become one with it.

 

Overall, the kid just radiated _innocence._. He had this look in his eyes, reflecting nothing wrongful, unjust. He carried not even a sliver of negative emotion behind that look. Garnering from his natural appearance, he didn't even appear remotely hurt or disturbed by this war or the surrounding atmosphere. But Kurapika had yet to see his face in the challenge of adversity, so he wasn't going to assume right off the bat.

 

Either way, he was either really naive and oblivious or he was hiding _something_ terrible with practiced skill.

 

“If you're hungry,” Kurapika eventually said after a small silence, gaze following as the boy spun around and ended up behind him somewhere in the midst of his childish babbling, “I can get something for you to eat. The kitchen is closed, but the nurses have access to some snacks you can munch on until the morning. I'm afraid the leader here is strict on regulating our downtime hours.” He turned to face the newcomer, hands relaxing at his sides where they had been clutching a little tighter then needed on his clipboard. Instinct, he assured himself. That was all it was. “They should hold you over, I'm sure. You shouldn't actually be out of the infirmary at this hour or you'll get yourself in trouble, so why don't I escort you back? Is that okay with you?”

 

“Okay! Sounds great to me! Lead the way.”

 

Kurapika giggled; the kid was just _too_ blatantly carefree,and pointed back to the door they must had left from, being that it was slightly ajar and not closed. The Kurta mused that he must had been wandering around for some time to end up this far from where the infirmary was, meaning he had been traversing the complex for awhile without being caught. Either he was very quick or very sneaky.

 

Or both.

 

Kurapika hoped it was neither, less it be bothersome in the near future. He couldn't deal with another unruly teenager on his hands; _cough cough._

 

Speaking of which, he wondered where Killua had gone off to and how his wounds were progressing. Granted, he would have to think of that later at a better time.

 

The loud, annoying stomach rumbling needed tending to first.

 

“That's the door you came out of, right? The one's that slightly open.”

 

The boy nodded and Kurapika ushered him back through the aforementioned entryway. He almost didn't catch the strangest pause and the odd; weird gesture of his _nose_ actually _twitching like a dog_ and smelling the air, as if to pick up one's scent and track it, before they seemed to change their mind about the idea and followed Kurapika inside without another word. As weird as it was and wanting to inquire it further, Kurapika opted out and began to lead the youth down the corridors and back-track his way to the infirmary as fast as possible.

 

Judging by the ascending darkness in the sky, he would only guess the nightly guards were lining up along the borders; as per usual, and that would mean security was bulking up for their shifts. Common protocol to assure the safety of your own troops. Any suspicious characters would be prosecuted on the spot and Kurapika knew better then to let this freed prisoner roam free at night no less, especially when hardly any of the hunters besides a small handful would recognize him. On top of the teen already having changed back into his street clothes, he would be an easy target for them to shoot down.

 

History foretold it. Night was deemed the best time to infiltrate and attack an enemy base, when almost everyone was sound asleep and cozy under the covers, ignorant of the world around them. They had many brutal battles with the Ants at night because they had caught onto this fact. The tussles and scuffles of people trying to fight in their pajamas and under garments (Leorio's pink boxers were the best) might have been hilarious if it weren't for the fact that their opponent didn't hesitate to violently mutilate whomever they could get their claws into regardless of your attire.

 

And if this guy was the _only_ specially confined person the Chimera Ants had held in safe-keeping, then he obviously meant something important. There was no way he would let him be shot down because the night guard was incredibly perceptive and cautious to anything that dare approach within 100 meters of the camp. He was invaluable, more so then Kurapika in this kind of situation.

 

He'd tread carefully not to mess this one up.

 

Since the passageways inside were ridiculously long in order to confuse stray, unknown characters from finding their way anywhere, there was a difficult lull as neither male spoke a word journeying back to where the least wounded had been kept. The uncomfortably heavy air around them felt pressuring and unbearable. Kurapika was glad when he finally stepped through the doors into the stuffy space; noting to open some windows before he left in the subsequent infirmary rooms.

 

Inside, he remarked that most of the people were already fast asleep minus one woman who was tending to her bawling child. It was a mind-boggling that it survived through that hellish nightmare. Typically, most children they ever rescued were either dead or on the verge of it, and to see one still lively and able to cry like a normal human being, was indeed a miracle.

 

“After you get me something to eat, can I ask you something?”

 

At the sound of the question, Kurapika glanced back and smiled softly, hand gesturing towards the last empty cot remaining. “Of course you can. You are more then welcome to talk about anything to any of us. We are all ears.”

 

He walked him over to his bed and rearranged the pillow and blanket back into place (an obsessive cleanliness habit he still tried to tone down now and again to his annoyance) before allowing them to take a seat upon it.

 

“Wait here while I get some snacks and a drink. I won't be longer then five minutes.”

 

“Okay. Thanks!”

 

He bowed his head on a whim and excused himself out, humming thoughtfully while he exited the room and began his trek back down the hall again. Upon watching so many others wrapped up in their own comforting sleep, Kurapika intended to make this quick, hoping to see his own bed and touch down for his own well-earned night of rest soon himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Gon took his time to watch the kind stranger take his leave before turning his attention to the only other presently awake person in the area. He recognized this lady as well; her name on the edge of his tongue yet unable to get it any further than that. He remembered having a hard time memorizing most of the common people who lived on Whale Island, a bad habit rearing its ugly head now when he kind of needed it.

 

She was one of the many wives married to the traveling fishermen who frequently visited the island on their usual rounds, that was certain. His aunt had spoken to her several times, especially throughout her pregnancy to present time. Now tending to her three year old daughter; who was easily as battered and bruised as she was, Gon felt an overwhelming sense of guilt invade his thoughts. To imagine all the hundreds of lives that had been damaged and destroyed by this war, demolished in the path of the Chimera Ants; sickened him to the core.

 

His fists clenched until his nails pricked into calloused, rough palms. The warm liquid seeping through the small cracks felt hot. Tears stung the corners of his eyelids, threatening to push through, but Gon hastily rubbed the back of his wrist vigorously against them until the urge passed and left him feeling nothing but drained dry.

 

_Why?_

 

The question whispered on the dying wind, breaking his thoughts in two and remained suspended. Motionless. Frozen. A stand still.

 

It tore him up inside and Gon so desperately wanted to scream right then and there, like maybe his wailing and yelling might actually make him feel better. Solve _something. Anything._

 

But he knew, internally, that nothing would come of it. Nothing was going to get better just throwing a temper tantrum like a child. Even as much as he wanted to throw himself on the floor and curse the heavens, the _gods_ , everyone, he just couldn't bring himself the strength or courage to do it.

 

It would be just like admitting defeat, right?

 

The high-pitched sound of a child crying suddenly became intense, murmurs and disapproving groans now floating over the bunks in the room from those fighting to sleep. The woman cradled her daughter closer, commanding her to hush in a tone that betrayed her intentions. She looked even more on the verge of tears then Gon had been before.

 

Without even thinking, Gon abruptly stood and marched over to the lady, bypassing the drowsy whispers saying otherwise.

 

_To just let bygones be bygones._

 

_There was no hope. No light._

 

_We're all going to die anyway._

 

_What's the point?_

 

_Give up._

 

“Ah! I'm sorry! Don't be mad! I'm trying my best to calm her down, it's just-... Please don't hurt us!” The woman frantically said, spotting Gon's approaching form at her side. She squeezed her daughter tighter to her bosom, face livid with dizzying fear.

 

Out of instinct, Gon backed away at the first whiff of that hauntingly dark emotion trying to leech off of him if he happened to step too near. Hesitantly, he lowered himself to a low crouch, making himself appear less threatening by matching the woman's level. It was something he learned when approaching frightened animals. Become an equal or lower level to them and they would relax enough to become approachable again.

 

It worked, too, he knew, when her breathing evened out and she sucked in a deep, greedy breath of air. Tiny emerald eyes peeked up from past her shielding embrace, now two sets of gazes locked on him.

 

“Uhm.” Gon started, putting on his best smiling, “Please don't be scared. I won't hurt you, promise. I just want to help.”

 

He reached into his pocket out of habit and felt something he had long since forgotten, pulling it out. Face brightening at the idea, he eagerly held out his hand, palm facing up, and showed the small four-leaf clover resting in the center. The child's face was the first one to beam, her cries becoming playful giggles, and she pointed at the clover with interest.

 

“That's a lucky clover!”

 

“It is!” The teenager agreed, reaching forward and gently placing it into the child's offered hand, closing it himself so she lightly held it in place, “I know you're really scared right now and you aren't sure what to do or think. So, I want you to have it! That way, whenever you feel scared, you can look at this clover for luck. Then that luck will chase all the bad things away.”

 

“Okay. Thank you, mister! I'll keep it forever and ever!” She laughed, bubbly and cute for such a small girl. Even her mother visibly eased, smiling in turn.

 

“Thank you, young man. God bless you. I appreciate it.”

 

Flushing slightly, Gon resigned to rubbing the back of his neck in another one of his sheepish gestures, chuckling through the rising heat flooding his cheeks. “Oh, it's no problem ma'am. I just thought it might help. I know how everybody has been so stressed lately. But.” He grinned, throwing a thumbs up her way, “It's only going to get better now. We just gotta have some faith and trust that luck is on our side. Right?” Clapping his lands as quietly as he could, he stood back up and waved, gaining two back in return himself, and started making his way back to his cot.

 

Feeling a little more lighthearted with a immense weight lifted off his chest, Gon paused for a moment, glancing up at the ceiling with an ever present smile still on his lips.

 

 _And with just a little luck,_ he hummed, _I'll soon be back with my family. I just know it._

 

* * *

 

 

Seven minutes later; a little later then promised but he blamed the uncanny need to have a mental debate about what kind of snacks a teenage boy would want to eat at this ungodly hour, and Kurapika returned with an arm load of food and a big bottle of water. He set the scattered items on the now empty bed; again, as he glanced over at where the boy was assisting with the woman and her crying child. He watched him offer the lady something that seemed to instantly perk her up.

 

“ _So it wasn't just me. There is something about him that's different.”_ Kurapika thought carefully, setting out the snacks over the sheet until they were a little more organized and not just in some sloppy pile. He would talk to Leorio about this in the morning, seeing as the boy was now awake. It would be a good time as any to let Hanzo see him. They didn't have much longer anyway before the citizens would be transferred to their respective places and this newcomer would need to be sorted as well.

 

“I brought you your snacks.” Kurapika said when they made their way back in his direction, “Just make sure not to leave a mess. There's a trash can nearby you can throw your wrappers in.”

 

“Cool! Thanks!” The kid chirped with glee, not waiting to dive to the bed and begin eating.

 

While the tan teenager tore into the wrappers, Kurapika walked around very quietly as to not disturb the sleeping patients and began sliding the window open just enough to clear the room of its humid stuffiness that was building like a dense fog. All these bodies and not enough ventilation; that was a complaint the blonde continued to berate the nurses to follow every single day. Leorio even knew better; the constant threats worked wonders on him, and would occasionally open the windows like an obsessive freak whenever he could remember or spare the time between his busy schedule.

 

It was something he appreciated from his hard-working friend.

 

Focus diverted suddenly to the soft coos of a mother murmuring to her dozing child; Kurapika looked over at the woman whom the boy was assisting to before. In her hands he could see a small four-leaf clover tucked carefully to her chest alongside her daughter; averaging between 2-3 if he guessed correctly.

 

Curiosity got the better of him and cautiously, Kurapika approached the lady with enough space to keep her comfortable. “Excuse me, miss?” He asked, his voice low, kind, and hopefully nothing too disturbing for her at this late of hour. “Can I ask you about that boy over there?” His finger directed her attention once he had it to the one who was devouring his snacks like a black hole. Kurapika would be definitely making a mental note that the kid ate like your typical 'starving' and growing boy. He would be clearing the cabinet empty if left to free range. He shook the scary notion for now and returned his own pearly gray eyes back on the mother, still smiling ever-so nicely.

 

He needed to know about this boy first before anything. It was worth a shot.

 

“Who is he?”

 

“Gon Freecs.” The woman replied after a minute, eyes watching the teenager with a look only a knowing mother could give. “I couldn't forget the boy even if I tried. Him and his aunt have been so kind to my daughter and I, I don't think we'd be here if it weren't for them. I owe him so much.”

 

“ _Gon Freecs, huh..? Freecs sounds familiar...”_ The Kurta thought avidly, watching the vibrant lad inhale food as fast as he put it in his mouth. It was entertaining to say the least. _Typical teenage boys._

 

“Thank you miss. I appreciate it and if you need anything at all, feel free to let the nurses know. They will be more then happy to help you.” She nodded, returning to her child at hand.

 

“Hello there, Gon.” Kurapika greeted, coming within range of the other rapid eater to be heard. He offered his hand which the other eagerly shook in return; noticing Gon had a strong grip, warm even. “My name is Kurapika. It's nice to meet you, but I guess we can make more time tomorrow to get to know each other better, right? It is late and you ought to be heading in to sleep soon.”

 

“Sure.” Gon's voice was muffled by the crunching of potato chips stuffed full in his mouth, “That sounds good to me. I'll ask you my question tomorrow, too, if that's still alright with you.”

 

“Of course. Ask anything you'd like.”

 

He began walking towards the door before glancing back one last time with a small smile, seeing the other waving at him with the energy of a child; innocent, pure, _free._

 

“Tomorrow it is, then, Gon?”

 

He saw a little of himself he longed to be reunited with in the one known as Gon Freecs; a piece of his soul that had been buried in the aftermath of war, beneath rubble and dirt coated in a layer of flesh and blood. On top laid the gunpowder, the smoke, the fire of rage and hate burning passionately, ready to reduce the world to nothingness at any given notice. But, that part of him still struggled to break the surface, was still fighting in those cracks.

 

_Still alive._

 

Maybe, just someday, he would find it in himself to grasp that feeling again.

 

“Tomorrow it is!”

 

Next time he found that kindred spirit, Kurapika would make sure not to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banji, mom and kid belong to awesomely Kihana-CHAN trololol. I was too lazy to come up with anything lol.


	5. Strip me of my Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Busy mornings taming worry-wart doctors and an overly concerned blonde (wo)MAN is not what Killua planned on to start his day in the process of getting himself patched up. But a run in with a bad character might just make him regret waking up and getting out of bed for a change.
> 
> Killua-eccentric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partly inspired by HiatusxHiatus latest chapter b: So, you get assy Tonpa + small snippet of people's concerns about their war treatment all in one.
> 
> Mostly focused on Killua this time around and it's about to get even uglier.
> 
> Enjoy. Thanks again for all the support.
> 
> Warning for more graphic language then usual. Plenty of cuss words. YEP.

**5**

 

Most mornings were considerably uneventful for Leorio, at least in the typical war-like lifestyle he had become accustomed to. Nothing really surprised him anymore; so used to random explosions going off and buildings blowing up before your eyes that he could easily sleep through them to pass the time. The addition of perilous screams and blood-curdling cries of bodies probably being torn apart violently just made the experience even more pleasant. He didn't need the mental imagery. But Leorio was pretty much 99.9% ignorant at this point, usually choosing the easiest way to avoid the pain and agony of lingering too long on reality by absorbing himself in his work whenever he could, however long he can.

 

That still didn't mean the doctor was remotely prepared to walk into his office the next morning and find a topless teenager (damn those buff muscles) picking at his bloody wounds and absolutely desecrating his once overly-obsessive clean office (because some dumb blonde FORCED HIM TO EVERY SINGLE DAY) with his filth and mess all over his cream tiled floor. The stains would never come out. He didn't even try to pay attention to his supplies scattered and so disorganized that it would take days to rearrange them back into their original places. That is, if he can even _remember_ where they belonged to begin with. (A manly tear had been shed)

 

It took only ten seconds for his patience to snap and Leorio blew apart at the seams right then and there. But; on the contrary, being the 'nice' guy Leorio really was, he settled for more subdued roaring at the top of his lungs and trying to strangle the gaping idiot for being the world's biggest selfless moron on the planet. If one can even call that subdued, anyway. He didn't even give Killua a chance to respond, flailing limbs struggling to pry himself free from the tight-locked grip and choking gasps of incomprehensible words flying past stuttering pale lips. The two bickered and wrestled for a good five minutes before Killua finally managed to free himself, toppling Leorio's giant form to the floor and pinning him successfully against his will with hands held high above his head.

 

When Kurapika walked in on the two next; a half-naked Zoldyck straddling the older disheveled male who's own shirt appeared to be in shreds with this rare gleam in those sapphire eyes and both men drenched to the skin in sweat (and blood), the entire base might as well just exploded like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was only appropriate. This was the time of blood-shed and death and usually one would be more privy to walking in on watching someone get murdered or violently slaughtered like it was an everyday occurrence.

 

It wasn't normal to walk in on your best friend and a young highly trained assassin; who was best known for tearing throats open and kicking off their heads, laying in the most compromising of positions on the once immaculate floor now ruined. It was enough to bring a tear to even Kurapika's eye.

 

But instead of seeing his own tears, the Kurta was more then satisfied when his chains flew hard and that he could now stare at the tears in _both_ those men's eyes as they sat on the floor whining and moaning at the pain in their skulls like a pair of big crybabies.

 

“Geez, old man. Are all the women you know this cranky?” Killua complaints had thoroughly been silenced since.

 

As Leorio tended to the adolescent's wounds without so much as a struggle or a peep (the threatening chains and leering red eyes behind them was enough to make _anybody_ shit their pants in all honesty), he could only marvel at the handiwork that had been done to such a refined, toned torso. For someone who dove head first into the fray of battle, it was remarkably surprising to find nary a scar or hint of damage to disrupt that porcelain skin, the only obvious lasting impressions he could find were small, thin white lines that reflected their existence only when the light hit them in the right spot.

 

If he guessed right, they were marks brought on by either a whip-lash or deep cut wounds.

 

He figured the latter.

 

“You're lucky, boy.” Leorio had said, tentative hands weaving his _Nen_ over shivering skin refusing to calm from the touch, “Whatever you did to treat your wounds before coming here seem to have done the trick. The rods left barely any visible damage so you'll heal up like nothing ever happened. But, I can't say the same for your insides. Your lung will at least need a few months of recovery if not more and several broken ribs probably going on another month. Your muscle was torn but seems to be making a speedy recovery so you'll be able to have full function of your arm in at least a week top.”

 

A small, incoherent scoffing noise was his response and the adult felt his brow twitch in irritation. The nerve of this brat!

 

“You know Killua, you're so bull-headed. Someone needs to give you a really good punch and wake up that dumb brain of yours or something because you're a completely irrational idiot. Getting yourself hurt like that without even letting anybody back you up. What were you thinking?”

 

The cold-shoulder of a shrug actually had Leorio grinding his teeth so hard the sound of them sliding together painfully was loud enough to discern. Killua seemed to shy away from the action, looking to the side to avoid making eye contact and any further interrogation from the medic.

 

“Killua.” Kurapika butted in, stopping the words that were dancing on the tip of Leorio's tongue to speak. “Why didn't you come first thing after we came back from our mission to be healed? Everyone, even Hanzo, said you were avoiding everyone like they were something contagious. No one could find or catch you when they saw you. Is something going on we should know about?” He was taking a daring step forward to stand behind Leorio while he worked and it was obvious Killua became uncomfortable because of it. He was fidgeting in his seat ever so slightly, but Kurapika's curiosity had started to chew on him and his patience grew thin. He needed to know and he thought it be best to call him out on it now while Killua's margin of escape was reduced to a mere sliver, no matter how awkward the situation seemed.

 

Killua couldn't escape the pair now even if he tried. And the all three knew this too well. They had him cornered.

 

“Killua. Answer me. Why are you avoiding everyone? What's the issue? Why did you avoid me last night when I called out to you?”

 

Gray eyes watched pale bony wrists grip tighter on the edge of the patient cot, nails digging into the cushion and a noticeable tear starting to form. Even so, the teenager chose to remain quiet, his narrowed eyes avoiding their gazes as if his life depended on it. It wouldn't be easy to make this kid crack. If Kurapika could describe him at that moment, he resembled a frightened, caged animal huddled in the corner of his pen with a gaze undisturbed by the predicament it had been forced into. The dried blood crusting on his skin and taut, tensed muscles gave him that wounded appearance; an animal licking at its injuries but still able to remain defensive in the face of predators.

 

Those were the most dangerous because they never hesitated to lash out at a moments notice if threatened.

 

“You saw him last night, Kurapika?” Leorio suddenly asked, brain processing the blonde's words slowly in the midst of his work. He had a habit of becoming utterly absorbed in his patients, so it didn't come off as a surprise whenever he did something like that.

 

“Yeah, I did actually. But of course he ran off before I could even get near him.” said Kurapika. In his approach to break the other or at least chip away at that hard exterior shell, he would tread carefully. If anything to get a peek at what lay underneath.

 

Killua Zoldyck was a mystery. A mystery that Kurapika intended to solve; if not just for himself but for everyone's sake, mainly Leorio's. If this boy posed a danger to his friend he would get to the bottom of it before it ever reared its ugly head. For now, he would play it safe and take his time. There was no rush.

 

Several stiff, uncomfortable minutes followed before Leorio's aura-encased hands accidentally ran over a tenderly bruised spot, eliciting a low hiss from the other. When it unintentionally pressed harder than necessary, a high-pitched yell emitted from tight-pressed lips.

 

“Ow, don't press so hard! That hurts!”

 

Leorio sent an apologetic glance Killua's way and slowed to a more gentler speed. “Oops, sorry.” Ten more minutes and a few more odd hand movements to double-check he was thoroughly finished and Leorio finally pushed his chair back with a satisfied bob of his head. “There. I think I'm done. The rest your body will take care of as long as you don't do anything stupid in the next few weeks. But I know your not that dumb as to injure yourself further, right Killua?”

 

The barest of nods answered him, face shadowed by bangs and line of sight kept away from prying eyes. It was barely discernible, but he was chewing on his bottom lip while squeezing the remaining life out of the bed's edge in quiet thought. It was a good sign. He wasn't ignoring their words despite not responding. He had acknowledged them in the smallest of gestures.

 

Kurapika had to hand it to Leorio; his carefree and kind nature worked wonders on the nerves.

 

Leorio continued with his usual medical ramble once he had the teen paying moderate attention to him. It was both protocol and habitual by now so the words flew right off his tongue with practiced ease, making sure to watch his tone as to not set off a negative reaction he didn't want to bother with so early in the morning. Or be of witness to. “I'll prescribe you some pain killers since antibiotics won't do anything to help at this point. Whatever infections you were starting to get are gone now. Just make sure not to pop them like their candy, okay? They're for when you're REALLY in pain, not just because you're being a pussy about getting a tiny cut or someone touchingyour _itty bitty bruise_.”

 

Even the hot, deathly sharp glare of darkened blue eyes didn't stop the medic from laughing triumphantly. Kurapika couldn't hold back his own quiet chuckles either, stifled by the back of his hand while Killua grit his teeth and shot harmless daggers with his stare their way. Those pale cheeks were faintly tinted pink up to his ears from what they only surmised to be real embarrassment.

 

The rising blush did little to curb his language however. Or his attitude.

 

“Screw you, stinky old fart. I'm not a pussy to pain!” Killua growled, reaching forward to pinch the adult hard on the shoulder. A loud girlish yelp followed and it was Killua's turn to laugh now in victory. “But I couldn't say the same for you who wimps out over a simple pinch. Haha.”

 

“Why you conniving brat--”

 

“Well, thanks for the mediocre treatment, old man. Bye bye now!” The boy was on his feet, shirt in hand, and dashing for the door before Leorio's blood-thirsty hands could make a grab to strangle him with. Kurapika caught a handful of shaggy white locks without bothering to turn around and the string of curses and protests that came from those not-so-innocent lips wasn't surprising now that they had, had a taste of Killua's true personality.

 

“Not so fast, Killua. You need to be bandaged up and Leorio needs to give you your pills before you can just go waltzing away. And don't think your getting out of this so easily. You have a lot of explaining to do.” Casually, his right hand was brought up, chains floating inches from his fingertips at the ready. It was more then enough warning to make the teenager ease in the head grip with a grimace. “Do I make myself clear?”

 

It still didn't stop Killua from retorting the least, because that seemed so like him to fight it out to the end no matter the consequences.

 

“Whatever you say, _mother._ ”

 

**WHACK.**

 

It was still worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

Some time later into the dawning afternoon, a knock on the door interrupted the blatant bickering of one overgrown man and the snot-nosed teenager that surprisingly could hold his own in an argument quite well. He had a tongue on him that could throw out retorts and counter quips as fast as his razor sharp claws flung through Chimera Ants in battle. If it weren't for his quick wittiness and humorous remarks to everything Leorio had to say, Kurapika might had thrown the kid out. He was just too amusing for his own good.

 

After another round of insistent knocking, the blonde finally opened the door to one of Leorio's assistant nurses; most of them polite and quiet women that held a lot of admiration for the doctor. This onyx-haired nurse bowed her head so low her messy black strands almost buried her entire head from view in a comical fashion. Her face was livid for a woman; dark droopy eyes and black lipstick smeared in a hasty make-up job. Judging by her awkward foot shuffling, she most likely heard all the obnoxious yelling through the walls and didn't want to pry. She spoke fast; Kurapika barely caught up with her words when they flew out of her mouth in a gargled mess.

 

“Mr. Leorio-sama and K-Kurapika, Hanzo requests your presence in his o-office as soon as you are able to. H-he also says he would like you to bring that s-special detainee along as well, p-please.”

 

“Oh, hey Cherry! How have you been-” Leorio started only to find his mouth filled with a boot pressing firmly until he was successfully silent, Killua snickering at the muffled sounds the man made in an attempt to free himself.

 

The woman dubbed 'Cherry' by Leorio could only blink and gape in utter bewilderment, torn between the urge to help and the urge to flee from the craziness.

 

Kurapika took a peek at the nurse's name tag; noting her name 'Palm Siberia' for later in case it held some form of importance, and smiled gently as if to soothe the lady. “Thanks, Ms. Siberia. I'll take it from here and make sure we get to Hanzo's office on the double. We appreciate you coming to tell us.”

 

He reaction came as a surprise when she started waving her hands erratically in front of her before hiding her immensely beet-red face from view (and with how dark it already was just made it ten shades more somber then before), muttering insensibly against her fingers about things Kurapika couldn't understand. She immediately stalked away, her entire body looking ready to fly through the ceiling any moment, and a loud squeal of 'Notice me!!' came just as she disappeared out the door she came in, slamming it shut behind her.

 

The shortest male rounded back with hands resting on his hips and mouth ready to reprimand them about being a pair of obnoxiously loud morons when Leorio literally flung Killua's foot so hard and unexpectedly that the youngster actually back flipped on the floor. He slammed into the nearby shelf, effectively knocking it and all its contents off into a scattered mess even worse then earlier. Killua had eluded being buried in the remains sometime in the chaos, ending up on the nearby chair in a pose that resembled a cat just splashed by cold water. His hair stood on end rather humorously and body hunched tight on all fours on the little pad cushion, cerulean eyes wider than saucers. Even his nails had lodged themselves in the pillow, stuffing pushing past the broken seams. All he needed was a cat tail and ears to match and he would be the spitting image of a completely shocked-wet feline.

 

Despite the dreaded insuring hours of clean-up they would have to do in order to return the office back to its original state; the two men burst into gut-twisting laughter. Killua practically steamed from the heat flooding his face when they both pointed at him and laughed even harder.

 

But the once witty-minded teen could come up with nothing at that very moment, reduced to hissing in his defeat with eyes still trying to magically summon daggers to stab the bastards to a slow and painful death. They would so pay.

 

“Damn you all! I hate you! Stop laughing, it's not funny!”

 

“I hate you, too, brat! Hahaha! And it is! It really is.” Leorio spoke thoughtlessly, laughs subsiding to uncontrollable chuckling. His fists twisted up in the fabric of his dress shirt while he tried to ease the pain in his gut from laughing, but he only smiled bigger at the feeling. “You look so stinking hilarious right now. You should see yourself! Like a cute little kitty that just got splashed by water!”

 

“WHAT THE HELL! I'M NOT A CAT!”

 

“You know, Leorio's right. You do portray a feline pretty accurately. The only thing you lack is the animal-like features.” commented Kurapika, giggling against the back of his wrist.

 

Killua instantly threw 'the finger' their way and pulled himself out of the position he had been stuck in, careful not to slip on the chair since it had wheels on it and he did not need a humiliating accident to happen on those slippery back-stabbing fiends. Straightening his clothing, the pale-skinned boy growled and marched his way out the door without sparing a glance back. Fumes practically billowed around his head, a testament to his shameful trouncing from a pair of immature adults he was seconds from beating into a pulp.

 

And a pulp was considerate to what Killua _really_ wanted to do.

 

“You guys can all rot in hell for all I care. I'm out of here!” His words echoed through the wide open door, throwing the pair into another fit of laughter they couldn't hold back. It was too funny.

 

“Haha.. Kurapika, shouldn't we stop him?” Leorio forced out after a moment, sitting up to eyeball the door Killua didn't bother to close.

 

“No, no. Leave him be.” Kurapika sucked in a deep breath, giggles finally under control, “We've tortured him enough for one day. We'll corner Killua again for a proper interrogation later. He still owes us that much for letting you treat him.”

 

Standing to his full height, Leorio patted the thin layer of dust from his clothes that had settled over in the aftermath of the shelf's demise. His focus wavered over the scary heap that lay at his feet and swallowed thickly, “Damn that little shit. It's going to take hours to pick all this up! And it took over an hour just to clean up the first mess he made!”

 

A gentle touch jolted Leorio out of his stupor and he looked down to find Kurapika smiling up at him reassuringly. “Relax. I promise to help you clean this up later. We should head to that meeting before it gets any later don't you think?”

 

“Yeah. You're right.” The taller of the two men amended with a sigh and began to follow his friend out the door, only to pause for a second with his index finger waving in the air purposefully as he declared, “But Killua is so picking up more than half of the mess, I swear, or I will kill him myself!!”

 

* * *

 

 

“Has anyone seen Gon?”

 

It had been more or less a question that was left unanswered for the past hour of searching for the missing boy. None of the remaining patrons that were still lingering around in their resting quarters could give them any hints or clues to the whereabouts of their lone escapist and several of the hunters could only shrug and point in the random direction they swear he had ran off to.

 

Leorio swore their comrades were sending them in circles after awhile like a sick joke.

 

Nothing made them anymore headway than just banging their own foreheads against the walls for an hour while waiting for him to miraculously pop up.

 

“Him and Killua both are going to drive me bonkers and I barely even know them!” bemoaned Leorio, sagging against the building's outer wall from exhausting his legs in all their panicked running to find Gon. “Where the heck could he have gone? Our base isn't that big!”

 

“I'm not sure, but I know he has to be around here somewhere.” Kurapika spoke, eyes scanning the forest scenery. He wasn't in any of the infirmary rooms nor the cafeteria. They checked all the places that only the soldiers had access too just for precautionary measures and nothing. Pretty much every building had been scouted in just under half an hour and the pair were running out of steam in their useless hunt.

 

If they didn't find him soon, Kurapika knew Leorio would probably explode and take the whole complex with him. He was that on edge.

 

After another long moment of scavenging and listening to Leorio mumble complaints about 'spoiled rotten teens' under his breath, Kurapika spotted the small green form of someone perched high above an exceedingly large tree in the distance. He could barely recognize the pointy black hair poking out the top of the brush and a head following after as it rose to full height to look around with wide-eyed curiosity. The second his own gray orbs caught the attention of the opposing brown ones, he received a wave worth sighing in relief over.

 

“Finally found him. Thank heavens.”

 

“Thank heavens? Thank hell! Thank everything! And he better be thanking me for not annihilating his skimpy butt when we drag him down from there too!”

 

And true to his word, Gon did, thanking him profusely for being so nice to him and Leorio couldn't had walked away with a more smug expression then he had then.

 

“See, what did I tell you, Kurapika? I have a way with kids!”

 

_THWACK._

 

Okay, maybe it wasn't really worth it after all.

* * *

 

“ _Shit_ , it hurts.”

 

The young Zoldyck strained to slide his body down the cold tile walls lining the shower stall he was currently preoccupying; alone, until his bare bottom was flush to the floor. He felt the icy droplets pounding against the top of his head but doing nothing to numb the pain as he hissed from the throbbing ache in his joints. He knew he had over exerted himself back there, trying to wrestle with the crusty old medic and then jump to avoid a falling shelf like he was physically still _capable_ of doing such feats in his condition. His chest felt bruised, soft to the touch, and he knew even _Nen_ wouldn't miraculously repair crushed brittle ribs. The blossoming purple splotches on his chest were more then enough of a reminder to this testament.

 

But, he could handle broken ribs and the insistent pounding in the back of his skull that would later be a ridiculously, annoying migraine. He could bear the burning from his muscles in his shoulder protesting every time he even inched his arm a millimeter from its lax position. He could take daggers and claws embedded in any of his limbs even when they hit to the bone and still be raring to do battle. Shoot him down with hundreds of bullets, drown his stomach with poisonous liquids until it came leaking out his throat and mouth, and _hell_ , throw him into a raging fire or a field of explosive electric wires and Killua would pull himself out of it, marred but still alive.

 

He wouldn't be surprised if he survived a nuclear bomb dropping beside him, honestly.

 

However, what he couldn't handle was that it hurt the most trying to breathe, every ounce of air putting pressure on his torn lung, to the point Killua almost considered not breathing for a long while just to avoid the agony. If he remembered correctly his record for holding his breath was at best 3 minutes and 20 seconds, on a good day.

 

But he _definitely_ was not having a good day.

 

“ _I shouldn't had reacted like that earlier. I'm such an idiot.”_

 

He shuddered unintentionally, wincing at his own actions, and cussed to himself in the quiet, solitary room he holed himself up in. Nobody would hear or reprimand him for speaking so crudely, not when everyone left him alone for pretty much every second of his damned life _but_ when on the battlefield.

 

Not being able to breathe really sucked and Killua actually started to miss the ability to breathe like a _normal_ person again.

 

“Damnit.” He resigned to sighing, letting his arms go limp at his sides, head lolling back so it rested against the wall, eyes closed. Now, the shower head was dumping its frigid water onto his exposed face since his hair was sticking, plastered to the back of his neck and forehead. At the rate the it was pushing out liquid, it probably would make his skin flushed and tinted from the sub-zero temperatures he had placed the nozzle on. But Killua really couldn't care less about that right now. Let him turn blue from hypothermia if it came down to it.

 

_Numb the pain. The colder the better. Don't ever use heat._

 

_Never cry. Never mope. Never whine. Pain makes a man. And to admit to pain means you're weak._

 

_Weakness leads to Death._

 

_And to die in battle like a coward is-_

 

“Fuck you.” Killua made no hesitation to say out loud, challenging his own thoughts, his own grim reminder of what all those wasted years of his childhood was used for training, for _torture_ he told himself, even if he didn't always realize it. He was in denial, yeah, that was it. But those persistent voices in his head wouldn't leave him be, wouldn't let him go by every day of his life without _knowing_ the truth.

 

He was an assassin not just by name but by blood.

 

_Monster._

 

_Evil._

 

_Vile._

 

_Murderer._

 

_Killer._

 

All those bothersome noises starting to build in his head, whispering into both ears with no where to exit, were now trapped in the middle of their own mental war. The meddlesome thoughts running a mile a minute had Killua's fist inches from burying itself into the nearest wall if they didn't stop. He knew his physical threat would go ignored; it was _his_ mind after all, but he couldn't control the tremors traveling up and down his arm to prevent himself from raising a fist on instinct.

 

A trained habit he just couldn't _break_.

 

If it hadn't been for the abrupt slam of the shower room door opening and a loud, grating to the nerves laughter, he would have had his hand through the other side and then he'd be dealing with another painful dilemma he didn't need.

 

“Well, look who it is. The Zoldick brat.”

 

Killua didn't mind the 'Killer' nickname so much now, actually...

 

A large bodied man with not much room for muscle as there was _fatty bulk_ , waltzed in with a towel around his waist, _thank god_ , so the only thing that was fairly noticeable was the forest of ugly chest hairs making a nest on his 'bubbly big fat man breasts.' Killua would never actually say it though, because he knew better then to get on Tonpa's bad side. His status as the infamous new-recruit _crusher_ was well known through the other squads, even if he necessarily lacked the required tools to proceed with literally _crushing_ any new recruits.

 

He wasn't much for _Nen_ really; using traditional based weapons with a mastered skill, so the ZOLDYCK had little to fear from him in the _getting his ass-handed to him_ department. He could take Tonpa down with only his pinky if he really bothered to spare the effort. But it wasn't his lack of physical prowess that set anyone on edge whenever the bastard showed his face in the vicinity.

 

It was his words that could kill.

 

Tonpa had a nasty snake bite, a tongue that could lash out and deal a lethal blow with a plethora of words that even the dictionary regretted making legalized. The man knew how to put someone down to the point of suicide, as if he was specially _trained_ to do, even more so then Killua's extensive assassin family background. Killua remembered their first encounter in absolute clarity, Tonpa firing blanks only because of the snowy-haired teens perfected ignorance to what most anything people said to him, unless relevant like orders from the leader.

 

But every now and again, Killua had the rotten luck to be caught in a room with the devious tyrant, and every single time he would come out with another mental wound he _swore_ he should be strong enough to fight against.

 

_You're weak._

 

“Giving the silent treat like always aren't you, you little _shit.”_ Tonpa's annoying tone made the albino growl under his breath, rattle his thoughts, seething behind his bent knees that drew up to his chest for cover. Like he would ever be caught butt-naked in front of that fatso, he did not need word spreading about the size of his _package_ to the other hunters. It was enough ridicule to be known as a cold-blooded mass murderer lacking any means of a human heart or emotion among his peers. If they all thought he had a small dick because of Tonpa's 'well-versed intellect' he'd sink even lower then he already was.

 

“Are you seriously ignoring me, snot head?”

 

He could feel that giant face peering over the wall into Killua's cramped shower stall, beady eyes narrowed and observant. The sapphire eyed youth refused to give him what he was asking for; any sign of emotion that he was being affected by those words, those _names._ Because showing him you were listening and paying attention to his verbal threats just made his life much more easier to torment you until you transferred out or killed yourself.

 

Picking either option wasn't in Killua's job description right now.

 

“Hey. I'm talking to you, you big coward.” Tonpa grunted, reaching forward without the other boy's knowledge and turning the handle of the hot water onto full blast. The icy tundra switched to scalding lava in a matter of seconds, the steam filling the room in a hazy plume of fog the second it touched the air.

 

Thanks to Killua's training; _torture;_ he was able to remain completely rooted to the spot, barely stifling his hiss of pain and surprise into the space between his knee caps. The skin on his shoulders and back were bubbling and his head felt like it was on fire, but he would live. The blisters and burns would be a bonus dealing with later, though, much to his regret. Venting out his frustration being rendered frozen in place; less he set Tonpa into an excited frenzy at seeing him affected by his stupid _attempts_ to rattle Killua into a frenzy, his arms dragged his nails across the quickly heating floor, scraping the blunt points hard enough to make a low, deafening screech sound.

 

Tonpa still didn't care though. Killua's threats never surprised the ass hole.

 

“Geez. You're such a dumb prick. When are you ever just going to give up and go home to your rich ass mommy and daddy?” sighed the older man, the pitter patter of his giant feet tapping on the ground behind Killua as the guy made his way over to the other unoccupied stall. Killua never picked the bigger shower rooms, only the ones that had a max of 3 in them. Because that meant less people to deal with, after all.

 

And still, Killua remained silent, unwavering, curled up in his own stall that was probably boiling temperatures close to like a vat of acid by now, cursing his luck and his life to hell. He could hear the twisting of knobs and the second thunder of water hitting tile floor from right across him, alongside every single breath the fat man took in so greedily like a _mockery_ to Killua's current predicament, in complete excruciating detail.

 

“Must be nice to be rich and a spoiled brat like every other _Zoldick_ out there. I wish I could have been born rich. But no, I had to struggle through life just like every other hard-working hunter in our squad, working their asses off to make a living. Unlike you, who always has everything handed to him like a _perfect_ princess.”

 

Ignored.

 

“Getting your hunter license without even having to take the exam must have been great. I had to go through five fucking trials to get mine and that took me 36 tries. You didn't even have to do one single fucking thing and the association handed it to you like you were god's gift to _mankind._ ”

 

Keep ignoring.

 

“Even Hanzo gives you special privileges like letting you take up a whole damned bathing stall whenever you choose to wash your grimy ass and your own area to sleep in; since no one wants to get close to filth like you, which means you pretty much get 6 cots to yourself in a sense. They even give you all the food you can eat no matter how much you ask for, the cafeteria ladies always cave to your greedy face and you don't even have to stand in _line_. How fucked up is that? I have to sleep on a cramped ass bed with all my other fellow recruits and wait my turn to bathe and get food just like _every other fucking person_ in this stupid base.”

 

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

 

“You know, scum like you makes me _sick._ I can't stand things like you that get everything handed to them and don't even have to bat an eyelash. And just because you're from high and mighty _assassin_ family. Sheesh. Must be nice. So very nice.”

 

I. G. N. O. R. E.

 

The accompanying drizzle of water stopped suddenly, the squeak and squelch of heavily weighted footsteps making their way behind him again and to the door (Killua knew the approximate amount of steps it took to get to his stall and the doorway by heart). The screech of hinges opening and the thud of it hitting the wall when it opened made Killua cringe again, sinking further into his spot automatically.

 

He really wish he had the guts to absolutely slaughter the man to nothing but shredded pieces of skin and flesh, but he just couldn't bring the urge to surface. Couldn't tell himself, _yes_ , it was okay to kill one of your 'comrades'. Killua just couldn't do it. He didn't have the capability to command that drive in him, bring forth that _monster_ he was hailed as, and completely desecrate the fat tub of lard until he had nothing to bury in his grave, not even ash or dust.

 

_Damn him. Damn him so much._

 

“Well. See you later, you heartless piece of _shit._ Thanks for ignoring me once again. Good luck drowning yourself. And please, don't _hesitate_ to do it either.”

 

Killua exhaled the breath he didn't even know he had been holding once he heard that heavenly sound of a door slam behind him, the sharp lack of air leaving spots dancing across his vision and pain lancing his chest like a spear. He bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut, and dropped his knees to the ground as he leaned back and grumbled, loud enough for his voice to echo across the quiet, empty shower room he was finally left alone in again. The scrape of his nails scratching the hard, unbreakable tile did little to ease him.

 

Nothing did.

 

So, he did what he always did in these kinds of situations.

 

“Shit. It _hurts_.”

 

He ignored it.


	6. I think I found Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting finally happens with Hanzo, their leader and part of the mystery of who Gon Freecs is, is finally revealed. But even sunshiny smiles and bright faces have shadows beneath them and a secret to hide. Gon takes too close a look at himself and meets this new darkness underneath, but will he regret it in the end?
> 
> Gon-eccentric.
> 
> Warning: Minor Character Death and some violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Vacation haha. So I'll be slow posting these for the next while. Expect maybe another update by Friday/Saturday hopefully. I'll be writing a lot while I'm away so hopefully will come back with chapters galore. b: Especially cause people are gonna murder me for the cliffhanger.
> 
> ALL WELL. Please ignore any errors and mistakes. I didn't correct or edit this beforehand, so I will probably come back and fix it up in time.
> 
> This is focused on Gon this time, because it's about time I bring up the plot a little and show you while this is a real War AU. 
> 
> Enjoy and thanks again for all the support.

**6**

 

Typically, when one joins the army, the lower ranking newbies; as they call it, expect to be bossed around by the higher ups. Those new recruits would be drilled into the ground by their sergeants and those sergeants would then be bossed by their captains and so on.

 

It wasn't like this when apart of the **Silver Squadron 2.** A nice change in pace from usual warfare where you dreaded what you knew was coming only to be treated fairly and equally as the rest of your fellow officers. It was one less weight to carry on those heavily burdened shoulders and they were thankful for it. To be created and treated same. It was something everyone made sure to appreciate. A treasure, like a gift of luck.

 

Just another thing to make the battle-weary days a little more bearable.

 

The same applied to Hanzo; assigned leader for the **Silver Squadron 2.** He didn't eat special high-class meals like you'd find royalty picking away at while the lower class fished out the crumbs. He didn't sleep in a grand, luxurious room with four poster beds and spic-span clean shower rooms. He had his own office and personal space, yes, but it was just as ordinary and plain as the rest of the rooms their base had. A simple desk, some shelves, and the tackiest paint imaginable.

 

But Hanzo never complained, only smiling as he walked by the other hunters like a normal person. An individual of like status. A comforting feel to it.

 

He wasn't made a priority to anybody. His status and rank was no greater than any other.

 

Everyone had equal rights.

 

And as Kurapika and Leorio walked into that office with Gon trailing behind them, neither men felt a shred of tension or anxiety. It was a mutual feeling that they knew too well. After all, they were personal friends with Hanzo since their first Hunter Exams. All three shared a history. A positive history reminiscent of the good old days before war ravaged the peaceful tranquility they were growing up in.

 

“Kurapika! Leorio!” The head ninja said in his usual sing-song voice, standing in front of his desk while making an attempt to organize the crazy mess of papers littering the small abused space. He waved to them offhandedly, rubbing the back of his shaven head out of sheer embarrassment. “I didn't expect you so soon, heh heh, so excuse the disaster. Have a seat! I prepared some chairs for you all.”

 

Leorio laughed a little, watching their proudly bald leader scramble to shove papers into a semi-decent pile in a mad haste to prevent further more falling to the floor. There was a subsequent amount already there. Any more and he might as well consider the floor his new desk. “Sheesh, how you manage so much paperwork all the time is beyond me, Hanzo.”

 

Kurapika of course; in his mature nature (and partly from his obsessive cleaning habits), started plucking what he could from the floor only to be stopped by a calm, firm hand patting his shoulder with a chuckle.

 

“Thanks, man, but I got this. Sit, sit. I can't have you guys doing all my work now can I? That would defeat the purpose of being the leader!”

 

Nodding curtly, the blonde sighed and set what he collected onto the table and sat himself beside Gon, the kid obviously lit up with curiosity but contained by his respectfulness for his elders. Apparently someone had raised him to have some manners; unlike some other good-for-nothing bratty boys that shall remain nameless. Gon was fidgeting in his seat and those big brown eyes were almost glowing with _something_. Something Kurapika couldn't quite name, but it intrigued him. He made a mental note to inquire on it later.

 

After a few long moments of Hanzo mumbling odd, incoherent things to himself while rearranging his paperwork, he finally turned and propped himself against the desk edge with a big sigh and ever bigger smile.

 

“So. How is everyone doing today? I would hope alright after that last mission anyway. I know how to pick 'em easy don't I?”

 

“Ha ha! You sure do. And their doing great, actually!” the doctor piped in, throwing a thumbs up his friend's way, “Finished all the patients last night so everyone is taken care of and ready to set sale for the safe houses.”

 

“And everyone, including the other hunters, are making great recoveries. The supplies are all in order and everyone is making preparations to set off towards our next mission by the end of this week. Another two days and we should be fully packed and ready to go by the necessary standards.” said Kurapika next, checking the clipboard he came with on hand and offered it to the other once he concluded the information correct.

 

Dark eyes scanned fast over the paper and Hanzo nodded, satisfied as he set aside the clipboard. “Good, good. That's great news! That means everything will go smoothly and according to plan.” He turned to the teenager sitting in the middle, those eyes now showing interest in him. “You must be Gon!”

 

Hanzo strode over and immediately thrust out his hand, still wearing that ever-present smile.

 

“My name is Hanzo. Call me an old-fashioned ninja if you will. I am the assigned leader of the **Silver Squadron 2.** It's a pleasure to meet you! Mind telling me a little bit about yourself, young man?”

 

All three of the men dropped their attention to that lone tan-skinned boy sitting in his chair. Anticipating, waiting. Excited? There was just something _magnetic_ and unexplained that no one could pinpoint, breathlessly waiting for the answer to come and explain itself. It was in this child.

 

It was _Gon._ But who exactly was he, after all?

 

And so, they stared, quiet and patient. For all questions had to be answered eventually.

 

Right?

 

* * *

 

 

All eyes on him.

 

Gon swallowed, boots scuffing the tile flooring below. The squeak wasn't nearly as loud as his heart beat thundering behind his rib cage. He felt signaled out, spot light illuminating his form for the whole world to see.

 

Aunt Mito had always taught Gon to respect your elders but in the face of a real life _war captain_ , he just wasn't so sure anymore how to react. From what he knew, war was a serious thing and everyone who was apart of it took the matter very seriously. He couldn't blame them; wherever war went, death surely followed. Although Kurapika and Leorio had been nice and accepting of him so far; how much longer would it take until he stepped out of bounds and did something to incur their wrath? He couldn't quite gauge Hanzo so he decided to play it cautious.

 

Intimated. Gon was definitely intimidated. But he wouldn't back down. Not yet.

 

“My name is Gon Freecs, sir.” He spoke slow, picking his words carefully, “I just turned sixteen on May 5th. I live here on Whale Island with my Aunt Mito-san and Abe; my grand mother, up on the highest hill by the western port side.”

 

His hand took the others and shook firm, feeling the power radiating from those strong fingers into his own tanner ones, a small gasp leaving him when the rush washed over his entire being.

 

_He's strong. Really strong._

 

While he had a decent look at the man, he eyed the bulging muscles pressing out of a tight, armor-like suit. He was dressed to the hilt, no sleeves, and the most peculiar thing to stand out on him was the deep red scarf wrapping around his neck. Even that thin glow Gon had been seeing was flowing strong around Hanzo, closely resembling a calm but powerful current just ready to surge over its enemies.

 

Instead of waiting for a reply, Gon continued before his nerves got the best of him. “I was raised here for as long as I can remember. My aunt has been taking care of me since. It's been really nice and I like to go out and explore the forests all day long when I'm not helping out around the villages. I've been told I have a keen pair of senses if that makes any sense.. Uh...” He laughed. Just him. It only eased the tension slightly. “Let's see.. I do know for a fact I'm the only boy who's actually grown up and was raised on Whale Island. The only other two children here were two younger girls, but we hardly ever spoke with how busy their parents were. Otherwise, it's just been me.”

 

“And on another note, I really, really do like it here on Whale Island, but what I really want to do is help all the people who are being affected by the war. I really care about everyone here, but I can't stand around and watch everyone getting hurt and killed because of these.. Ant things that everyone keeps talking about. So.. So-”

 

Yeah. He decided. No regrets or second thoughts.

 

He had his answer.

 

“If you'll have me, I'd like to join you guys in the war and fight the Chimera Ants, too, to the best of my abilities that I can offer!”

 

Nobody moved. He even wondered if they were breathing with how still they had become.

 

_Was I that bad?_

 

“And that's all I have to say, s-sir!” Gon concluded fast and hurriedly, panic evident but pushing past it when he bolted up from his chair and saluted the best cadet's salute he could manage. You know, the funny one where your hand is held flat against your forehead and your chin is turned ridiculously upward and head aimed so high up your neck starts to crack. Then in turn, your spine is bending erratically every which way in order to maintain this insane positioning, your tippet-toed posture threatening to drop you to the floor in an embarrassing heap where you'd be ridiculed and mocked at for all eternity by your fellow peers.

 

But you still tried.

 

_Interesting._

 

That was the only word any of the three men could come up with to describe the air of reverence surrounding them and this new, mysterious youth. Kurapika figured as much the second he laid eyes on that bronze-skinned male: Gon shared many similarities with Killua. Just another teenager caught up in a battle they were too young to fight in, too innocent to be of witness to, once pure and now tainted by the blood on their faces. Their hands. Their hearts.

 

It was a horrifying world they were being brought into and Kurapika pitied them a little for their terrible luck.

 

But they would make it. They were both two strong growing adults.

 

And if it were anything to go by, Gon seemed fairly self-sufficient unlike a certain stone-headed _albino_ . He had the uncanny senses comparable to a canine; sharp-eyed and attentive ears could keep him on the correct path. A strong nose may be useful in a tough-knit situation and his reflexes and energetic spirit would give him an edge on the field. Albeit his obvious nativity and one track mind; Gon has this sense of _righteousness_ about him. Courage perhaps? It was hard to actually describe him, truthfully.

 

Gon appeared easy to read but in reality was as unpredictable as they come.

 

He would be one to keep tabs on, indeed.

 

“That's a big proposition you're making, kid, but I will certainly take it into consideration! Gon Freecs you say?” spoke Hanzo, rubbing the flat of his chin. “I think I've heard of another Freecs before, somewhere in the higher ups. Wasn't it Jin..?”

 

“Ging!” Gon blurted excitedly, brightening at the mentioned name, “That's my dad.”

 

Kurapika's eyes widened in both realization and genuine surprise, leaving a bewildered Leorio to only stare and blink in his confusion like an outcast. “Your father is one of the Zodiacs?!”

 

“No way! This tiny pipsqueak is related to one of them?” the bald man gaped, rearing back in shock.

 

Leorio flailed his arms suddenly, looking left and right between the two other guys. “Hey, wait a second! Hold up here! Who the hell are the Zodiacs? What are you guys talking about! Let me in on this!” He turned to Kurapika and shook him by the collar of his robes. “Kurapika, spill! Who are the Zodiacs?”

 

A swift slap sent the bespectacled man whining over his redden hand, the blonde straightening his clothes with a sigh. “Leorio, we went over this several times. It's not my fault you have a lackluster memory and can barely remember what you even have for breakfast.”

 

“WHAT? I do not have a l-la..lack whatever memory! And I do remember what I had for breakfast! It was.. eggs and.. those square things. You know-?”

 

“You had sausage and bacon, skipped the eggs and toast for a black coffee and a huge slice of fatty steak soaking in grease. Because, you know, 'real men thrive on meat' as you thoroughly described it.”

 

“Well it's not my fault all you live off of is those tiny excuses for toast and crackers with your stinky smelling tea!”

 

“I'll have you know tea is very healthy and calming on your body and mind. You should try it.”

 

“So is coffee. The caffeine wakes you up! What's better then that?”

 

“A lot of things, actually, if you would just take a moment to consider-”

 

Gon's raised hand interrupted the pair, voice loud enough to be heard and thus send the room into a hushed quietness. Leorio and Kurapika looked like they were on the verge of strangling each other and Hanzo was just chuckling away in the background. “Uhm. I'd like to know who the Zodiacs are, too, if you don't mind.” All eyes fell on him and the dark-haired teen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, shuffling in place. “Please.” He added as a last afterthought. Just in case.

 

Hanzo's hand rose next, immediately silencing further protest from the peanut gallery over in their chairs. He laughed, dropping his hand like Gon at the same moment and stared at those big hazel eyes watching him with utmost curiosity. “The Zodiacs are what you consider the Hunter Association's 'Top Dogs'. Chairmen Netero is the head of the Hunters and the Zodiac members are his second in command. They're considered some of the most powerful people in the world, most of them double star Hunters or of higher rank. I think your father was or was in the process of becoming a second star hunter, if I'm correct. Your father, Ging is one of the most widely renowned Hunters, actually. He's mostly famous for his archaeology discoveries, but he's made a lot of other amazing achievements too. Although it's said not many people actually ever get to see him; but those who have say he's amazing! They say his _Nen_ is so incredibly powerful that most only get a second to glimpse it before-”

 

“Hanzo.” Kurapika butted in, pointing at the steady stream of smoke starting to issue forth from the youngest male present in the room. “I think you lost him as soon as you started talking.”

 

Leorio chuckled, fanning the gathering haze with his hands before patting the lad on the back reassuringly. It seemed to do the trick, the kid snapping out of stupor with a startle and then instantly laughing at his own behavior. “I don't blame him. Whenever Hanzo starts explaining things, he _never_ stops rambling. I don't even think I can keep up with him half the time.”

 

“More like none of the time, Leorio.”

 

“I resent that! Sort of! Argh!! Shut up, Kurapika, you're not helping!”

 

Their ninja friend moaned, face palming and glared past his spread fingers with a sigh. “As much as I like you guys a whole lot, your constant teasing isn't earning any brownie points with me.”

 

“Sorry, Hanzo.” The two said in unison almost reflexively. This just made their leader groan louder in dismay.

 

“Okay. Fine. A simpler explanation that you might be able to understand, Gon.” He received a confirmation nod that he had his attention. “Your father, Ging, is pretty famous among us Hunters. A lot of people know about him but have never actually _seen_ him. He's a member of this Hunter's group called the Zodiacs, which, if you were to put it in simpler terms, he would be like second in command to the chairman. Get it?”

 

Again, another eager nod and now a smile poised on those small lips. “He's really strong from what I hear, so strong that even the mere mention of him has most people surrendering before the fight even starts. But what's most known about him is that he has a bad tendency to avoid almost all contact or conversation with everyone, so he has this habit of disappearing for awhile only to show up however longer later just out of the blue.”

 

Gon's head tilted, looking unchanged by the information given to him. “I already knew all that about him. Aunt Mito-san told me!”

 

All three men shot glances the Gon's way, Hanzo's eyebrow twitching with irritation. “Then why did you even ask about them in the first place if you already knew?!”

 

“Well I knew about my father, just not about the Zodiacs!” Gon defended, a pout thrown their way. It seemed to ease the sudden tension built up, resulting in a group sigh of defeat.

 

The bald head of command massaged the side of his neck while taking a seat in his office chair, eyeing the boy with a new found energy he didn't know he had. He was interesting indeed, this Gon. He needed to know more. “On to another topic then. I'm curious to know why the Chimera Ants were keeping you as their special hostage. Even if you have impeccable senses, that's still not enough to give them a good reason as to keep you imprisoned on the higher up scale.”

 

“Could they have done it because of his father's status?” suggested the doctor, throwing his bit of input their way.

 

Kurapika disapproved it with a shake of his head, turning to his friend with his usual neutral expression when he was in that ' intense thinking mode'. “The Chimera Ants aren't one to keep track of any of the hunter's names, let alone our history or backgrounds. The only thing they will have primary focus over is the number of us they will be fighting and any known abilities that could pose threatening. Their intelligence level might be on a different scale then ours, but it's been proven fact that most of these lower lackeys we've been facing are incapable of strategy or battle tactics. If they cannot even manage that, then what makes you think they would do something such as take a boy hostage because of his heritage?”

 

“And, on another note, they've yet to imprison anyone on Whale Island in special detainment. Gon is the only teenager we've come across so far on the island but that doesn't necessarily mean they would imprison him because of his age, either. The Chimera Ants are cold-blooded and heartless, killing babies and children as easily as they bat their eyelashes. So, it's obvious they don't have any particularly favored age groups they prefer to kill. So once we rule out Gon's heritage, family back ground, and his age and status, that only can only leave one thing. They see some kind of potential in him that we just aren't grasping. Something they're obviously afraid of or he wouldn't had been so bound and restrained like that. Plus-”

 

“You lost me the moment your lips started moving. Which for the record, is faster then when Hanzo starts talking.” Leorio interrupted, rather bluntly of course.

 

Gon joined in right after, his hand raised in accordance with a guilty grin. “Me too!”

 

 _WHACK_.

 

Now the pair of them were probably lost among the stars spinning around their head from the force of Kurapika's smacks if their pitiful moans were anything to go off by. Hanzo chuckled bemusedly.

 

“Well, we can definitely rule out all that you just said. Kurapika, as being any of the reasons they captured him. Which leaves my next question, Gon, do you know anything about _Nen?_ ”

 

“What's _Nen_? It sounds like some kind of fish.”

 

The Kurta giggled, Leorio barking with his own laughter beside him, leaving poor Gon to stare between the two with a look of utmost puzzlement. “What's so funny?” He whined, swinging to face Hanzo who now was following their lead in his own subdued chuckles. “It really sounds like some kind of foreign fish.”

 

Once his breathing was under control, the leader waved his hand to calm the room of its humor fit. As soon as it quieted down again, he smiled at Gon lightly. “No, it's not a fish. It's something Hunters can do specifically, but all humans actually contain _Nen._ And if you don't know what it is, then that means you cannot see or use it presently, which rules out that reason, too.”

 

“See it?” the forest child blinked, “It's something you can actually see too?”

 

“ _Nen,_ ” Kurapika informed, finger in the air, “is what most humans would call or consider to be their _aura_. It's our life force that; if you have been exposed or trained to harness, can be manipulated and used like another weapon or even a tool for personal use. For instance, Leorio can use his _Nen_ to heal people. On the other hand, Hanzo's _Nen_ is primarily for fighting. However, no one's _Nen_ is created equally, so the possibilities are endless and dependent on the individual. One example is that my _Nen_ can both be used for attacking and healing. Your potential is designed from birth but it is possible to exceed beyond your limits and go further then that with intensive training and time. But everyone has it, even if they never can see nor use it to its fullest potential. That's what Hunters are: People who utilize _Nen_ in various forms to do various things. Most of the time it's in the forming of 'hunting' like Blacklist Hunters who seek to apprehend criminals or Wild Game Hunters who find rare and endangered animal species, but in the Hunter universe, the possibilities are endless.”

 

Gon seemed to ponder in thought, hand on his chin with focus cast to the ceiling midst quiet humming. “Hmmm.” He drawled, licking his lips, then glanced back down at the golden-haired Hunter in front of him. “Is _Nen_ that glowy stuff that surrounds your body all the time then, because it's been bugging me for a long time now. Everyone I've seen here is, like, glowing. Even some of the Ants I saw had this glow around them, but I haven't paid much attention to it so far. I thought maybe I was hallucinating or something.”

 

“....”

 

The silence was stifling to the point the footsteps from outside the building were actually _echoing_ somewhat in the room. You could even hear the sounds of the leaves crunching under people's feet and the trees were no where near where Hanzo's office was located. All eyes laid on Gon, blank and expressionless, and the teenager shifted uncomfortably in place. He opened his mouth to apologize over the idea that this stiff quietness was his doing, when all three men yelled at the top of their lungs in total disbelief, sending him practically flying through the ceiling in surprise.

 

“ _WHAT????”_

 

“You can see _Nen?!”_

 

Kurapika was on the verge of exploding with how wide his eyes were growing. Gon backed away just in case any of the residual mess flew in his direction.

 

“This kid KNOWS _Nen??_ ”

 

Came next from Hanzo who might as well flipped his desk with the force his chair fell when standing up at this news.

 

And of course, typical Leorio remained the oddest of the group, oblivious like usual and more focused on maintaining his semi-youthful status for as long as he was able to. That 'old' title was driving him insane honestly.

 

“You're kidding me! You seriously saw it all this time, Gon? How unfair! All the kids these days are too super powered, I swear! I was lucky I even learned _Nen_ when I turned 18, but come on!”

 

“S-sorry?” Gon offered, bowing his head apologetically. “I didn't know it was a bad thing.”

 

Hanzo walked over and dropped his hand on top of the lad's head, ruffling the messy black locks while avoiding the spiky tips at all costs, laughing. “It's not actually! This explains a lot actually! I'm pretty shocked myself. Who knew so many young kids these days were becoming _Nen_ experts? We really are getting too old for this Leorio!”

 

“I AM NOT OLD DAMNIT! WHY DOES EVERYONE ALWAYS THINK THAT I AM!?”

 

“He's even already mastered _Ten_ already _._ I am very impressed.” said Hanzo offhandedly to no one in particular, his forefinger and thumb busying themselves on his chin while he examined the new _Nen_ user before him. The easiness of Gon's own aura sticking to his frame, moving gracefully around every curve and dip of his body was astonishing for someone who had only just recently acquired the power.

 

“ _TEN_ TOO _?!_ Leorio cried out in a fit, arms waving frantically about, “It's not fair! It took me a whole year and a half just to master _Ten_ and it takes this kid; what, probably not more then a month?” His arms flopped down to his sides, eye brows furrowing in his anguish as his face contorted in a series of mixed emotions. “I work way too hard for this shit. Seriously. Where's the _Nen_ cheat sheet when you need one?”

 

“There's a cheat sheet? And you didn't tell me?!” rebuffed Hanzo, shaking the guy by the shoulders now, “CONFESS! WHERE IS IT? STOP HIDING IT ALREADY AND SHOW ME THE THING. I KNEW YOU TRIED TO CHEAT BACK THEN ON THE HUNTER EXAM BUT COME ON!”

 

“WHY I OUGHT TO-”

 

Kurapika calmly exhaled, gray eyes locking on brown. His serious tone drowned out the other two bickering like children in the background, causing the youth to focus in on him with natural curiosity. “Gon. When did you learn _Nen?_ Or at least, for a better way of putting it, when did you start seeing _Nen?_ Have you always seen it or is it just something that happened recently?”

 

“Recently. I remember waking up in the cell with two of those Ants talking to me while I was chained up. Though my vision was kind of blurry, I do remember they had this faint glow to them. That was the first time I'd ever seen something like that before. But it's nothing compared to the glow I see on you guys now. It's really dense and bulky, but also kind of clingy, too, so it doesn't look like it's overwhelming you with it. It makes me think of a very calm, flowing river that if provoked or angered, could turn into a raging tidal wave any moment.”

 

“I seriously can't believe it.. another brat with _Nen..._ What is this world coming to?” Leorio was mostly talking to himself now that their argument had died down, eyes shut, head held in his hands while he took slow, deliberate breaths.

 

Hanzo stepped forward, fists on his hips. “So, wait, you started seeing _Nen_ before or after you were captured by the Ants?”

 

“After. Before is still kind of... blurry.” he admitted, his gaze falling and a sense of sadness looming in those deep brown irises. “I'm still trying to remember what happened but it's like I can't no matter how hard I try.” Fists clenched tightly at his sides, lip bit unconsciously in Gon's effort to think, _think_ back and at least remember a sliver of it. But nothing came to him, just empty blackness and hushed, incomprehensible background noise. It was frustrating.

 

“Do you remember what you were doing that day they captured you? Try and remember that day as best you can. It might help you figure out when it all started. It's really important that you try and think back so we can understand better how this all started.” Kurapika offered, concern evident. He could see the strain of _whatever_ had happened taking its toll, Gon's features becoming hard and tense at the memories that refused to show. He could relate. He knew what it was like to forget the important details of one's life, especially something so impacting that, to forget, hurt just as much as to know in the first place.

 

“I'll try.”

 

“.....”

 

Several minutes passed by in silence before Gon seemed to visibly dawn into realization. The youth's face scrunched up, twisting the more the boy wracked his brain for answers. His eyes unfocused, fists starting to tremble in the struggle. “I was-” Voice shaky, he grit his teeth and tried harder, “I was doing something.. I know I went out that day because it was so nice outside. I wanted to go fishing and bring home some of Oba-chan favorite fish. The fishermen said they were in season so I thought.. I thought? But I don't think I caught any. It was getting late so I started to make my way home when I saw a bunch of smoke. The sky that had been blue not more then a few moments ago had suddenly become gray and black.”

 

“ _Gon! Run!”_

 

“ _Get away from here! Please!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHAHA.”_

 

Gon choked on a breath of air, almost as if the thick, gassy fog was predominating the oxygen around him. Tainted. It felt tainted. So he clutched his chest while he fought to continue, earning worried looks from those around him. Everything was worming its way into his head now. He was remembering.“The port nearby.. it was on fire. There was a lot of screaming and running. It's so blurry now that I think about it. All those frightened crying faces.” A grimace. “Everybody was everywhere and I didn't know what to do. The boats were burning on the water and the angry glow scared me. People were throwing themselves whichever way they could go only to die right before my eyes. I know I saw a lot of those strange Ants killing people, but the second I saw them look in my direction was the second I just took off running the other way. I'm not sure why I was running, but I know I was going back towards the house.”

 

“ _No! I can't, I have to save you! Leave them alone!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”_

 

“ _Please! STOP THIS! STOP IT! DON'T DO THIS!”_

 

Tears started to fall unbidden from his eyes and his hand instinctively coming up to wipe them away, only to pause and stare at the glossy droplets caught on the back of his wrist right after. “I think I was afraid. No, I knew I was afraid. But all I could think about at that moment was getting Mito-san and Oba-chan to safety before those things hurt them. There was so much blood and death. I was so terrified of seeing them suffer the same fate so I ran as fast as I could even if I wasn't breathing at some point. Only...”

 

“ _Run!”_

 

“ _Gon!”_

 

“ _Get away from them or I swear I'll kill you!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”_

 

Gon became still, motionless, the light in his eyes starting to dim. The shaking in his arms stopped just like his rugged breathing he hadn't realized was happening either. Everyone remained breathless, patient and quiet around him. Watching, anticipating with slow, anxious heart beats. They were hopelessly drawn into the boy's rich tale, the imagery practically playing before them in rich, exact detail. No one dared break the trance Gon was weaving over them. And so they listened.

 

Listened and dreamed.

 

'When I opened the door, I was watching those Chimera Ants surround my aunt and grand mother. They were screaming and crying for me to run, to save myself, to flee. And those creatures were just laughing and laughing..” Brown color became near black, Gon's face shadowed by the dark slowly creeping in. “They were cackling. One of them had Mito-san by the neck and was digging its nails over her chest so she was bleeding all over the floor under her. And I-... I couldn't...”

 

Somewhere, somebody was gasping and Gon could just register voices starting to call out to him. Was someone yelling at him in the distance? A female voice mixed in with a male's. They echoed in the back of his mind, vision steadily losing its light. He almost guessed he was seeing Kurapika and Leorio in front of him, mouths moving soundlessly. Were they talking to them? Why were they so quiet? Hands were reaching towards him and Gon kind of wished he could reach back, but the flashes playing before his eyes as they swapped in one big blur kept him rooted in place.

 

Paralyzed. Gon was frozen, helpless while his mind succumbed to the dizzying thoughts. The memories were now flooding through him in perfect clarity.

 

What replaced the cherished image of his once smiling grandma; sitting at their little wooden dining table with her usual morning green tea piping hot and smoking between those two tiny frail hands, was now a battered and broken indistinguishable lump crumpled up at the feet of the lion-like Chimera Ant. Its nails moved in slow motion, ripping out of her lifeless body and dripped onto the carcass below while it licked at the crimson liquid like a tasty treat. Her last moments of living left her with the lips in a sad, grim line and eyes soulless, empty, the color drained until she was nothing more then black and gray.

 

And what used to be happy and enjoying their last few years of old age was now gone, fleeting like the blood pooling away from such a small, priceless container. Left to dry, to harden, and to rot without care.

 

It tugged at Gon's heart strings, threatening to snap.

 

Such cruelty brought his piercing scowl onto his surrogate mother, gasping and thrashing within inches of her life. Her legs were kicking her assailant to no avail. He could distantly hear Mito-san calling out his name, one hand managing to free itself as it reached towards him. Tears spilled freely from her fearful round eyes, staining those pretty pale cheeks in smears of glossy crimson. Her cherry-red hair was disheveled, her favorite clothes and apron ripped to shreds after so many hard-working hours spent to sew them together. Gon had bought her the fabric for her apron with money he earned from doing labor for the villagers and even helped her put it together.

 

“ _STOP!!!”_

 

“ _GON!”_

 

“ _NOOO!!”_

 

“ _HAHAHAHAHA!”_

 

Now, before him, Aunt Mito was a painted portrait of maternal purity ruined by the grizzly reminder of encroaching death.

 

Gon knew at that moment there would never be another heart warming smile to brighten up his days when he returned home from a bad outing. No more teasing scolds when he was punished for doing wrong, only to then be comforted and hear such soft, calming words be sung to him in reminder of what was right. No more hugs, little pecks on the cheek and head, or pinky-swear promises he swore on his grave to keep less he swallow a thousand needles. No more warmly cooked meals from home and laughing for hours at all the silly jokes he learned from the fisherman down by the bay. Even the perverted ones which always earned him a smack well worth it in the end. His bed would no longer be left already made when he crawled under the chestnut scented covers he'd snuggle down in, so cozy. His clothes wouldn't be found hanging by the line when he ran up that freshly cut grass to their lone little house on the highest hill of Whale Island, wrapped snugly by the strong, masculine tree that swore to protect what was his.

 

 _He had failed._ They were no longer his anymore.

 

There was something else gradually overrunning the image in view, flecks of black and red; like snow flakes, traveling upward and around him. Was this what his aura looked like? His _Nen?_ It was twisting and turning in sickly colors, dark and cold like the remains of his tiny but treasured family.

 

_Crack. Snap._

 

The sound of bone snapping in half made bile rise to his throat, bit back by his tongue pressed between his teeth. What had made the room loud with the ringing of his aunt's frantic pleas and screams, suddenly became dead silent in her last moments of useless struggle. She sagged in the grip refusing to let go, give her some respite in death. Gon was unconsciously edging closer now towards them in a gradual shuffle; the giant beetle-ant dangling the limp red-haired woman that Gon had once called ''mom' like a rag doll meant to be played with. It was wiggling her back and forth, like the worm wiggles to entice the fish to bite on.

 

And then it started laughing.

 

And laughing.

 

Laughing and laughing.

 

It was endless laughing. All around him. Everywhere. So many mouths of grotesque, alien creatures cackling and roaring with laughter, fingers all aimed at him. All of them faceless. All of them covered in their blood.

 

And there was black and red color, too, invading his vision. Betraying his mind in its inky rage, all consuming. He didn't fight it.

 

As the last bit of his mind coated itself in the overwhelming display of enticing darkness, Gon realized that he really just didn't care anymore at that point.

 

He didn't care. Not one bit.

 

There was no more reason to care, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Mito and Abe with a passion and Gon/Mito's relationship is adorable but my plot in mind wouldn't work unless I gave Gon something to mull over yep yep. So sorry to all the folks hatin' me on their deaths. ;u; I will prob add flash backs and memories tho in the future SO AT LEAST LIKE THAT YES DON'T KILL ME TOO MUCH. *chicken run bawk flap SCREAMMMM*
> 
> SEE YOU LATER FOLKS.


	7. My sweetest Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never ending mysteries surrounding two teenage boys is a pain in the ass for Leorio and Kurapika.
> 
> They learn to appreciate it though.
> 
> The aftermath of Gon's episode and what plans are in store for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I promised this last Friday/Saturday. I suck. So here, have a long one. Still probably has typos but meh. 
> 
> Not sure I like this one or not, it's kind of scattered. But I'm way ahead in chapters and my plot is finally starting to come clearer in my head; mostly. I hope I don't disappoint too much. Again, I thank ya'll for the support. It's what keeps me writing.
> 
> SLOPPILY HAHAHA DARNIT.
> 
> Will shoot to update next weekish or so due to work. I WILL DO MY BEST NOT TO BE LATE TOO D: IF NOT SOMEBODY KILL ME NICELY PLZ CUZ I'M LAZY ARGH.
> 
> Enjoy.

**7**

 

If the giant cracks in the floor splitting up into the ceiling and cutting the roof in half were anything to go by, Hanzo would had convinced anyone that a Chimera Ant invasion had taken place in his office. There was a huge gaping hole on the right hand side, completely blown apart and crumbling into the outside forest behind them. Some of the nearby trees had been affected as well, splintering and cracking on their last limbs to stay rooted in place. The chairs and desks were broken beyond repair, mere shreds of what they once were. Shelves were shattered in pieces, lying at their feet.

 

Don't even get him started on the that butt load of paperwork he'll never get to finish.

 

(Not that he complained, shh.)

 

Kurapika was panting, strain of using his ability placing a heavy toll on him, but he still was nowhere near wheezing as loud as Leorio was; _that overly concerned oaf_.

 

Considering themselves lucky that Kurapika had been in the room when this happened; all three men shared simultaneous sighs of relief. His _Zetsu_ inducing _Nen_ ability was one of the most handiest things Hanzo had seen in all his years of fighting alongside the other hunters. Sure, he had seen his fair share of extraordinary techniques and powerhouses loaded with potential, but the ability to induce _Zetsu_ on any given person was just too much of a gift in itself.

 

(The _cost_ was great but if it were for a friend, Kurapika wouldn't hesitate, thankfully)

 

The clinking of chains jangled from a hardly shaking hand held out steady, poised and controlled like Kurapika was trained to be. The rattle of the metal coiled around the unconscious tan-skinned teenager was like music to their ears. A peaceful sound that told them to be at ease. _They would be okay._ The ominous glow of the Kurta's scarlet red eyes was powerful as well, casting as threatening a light as the aura radiating from those metal links fueled with reddish _Nen._ But both grown men had grown used to seeing this change in their comrade, so neither were phased to be in the vicinity of such an inhuman power.

 

“Is Gon...?” Leorio finally spoke up, not daring get off his ass less something like _that_ happened again. He would just fall back down.

 

“He's okay now.” exhaled Kurapika, free hand grasping his chest while he slowly regained normal control over his breathing. The alarming rate that his heart had sped up in that moment was cataclysmic. He would deal with it though.

 

“What happened...?” said Leorio next, the question that had been hanging on everyone's lips finally being voiced aloud. “I mean-? He just- He just blew up! Who the hell does that!?”

 

Hanzo took a wobbly step forward, righting himself on the remains of his desk. His eyes never left that kid, looking so cozy and comfortable while sleeping in a bed of cold steel shackles. “That wasn't just any kind of blowing up. That was the most incredible display of _Ren_ I've ever seen in my entire Hunter career.”

 

“His _Ren_ did all of THIS?!” The medic's hands gestured every which way, utter disbelief refusing to hide anymore. There was just no way some child could cause so much damage just by showing off his _REN._

 

“Yeah, that was his _Ren_ , Leorio. I'm almost afraid to see what his _Hatsu_ would be if that was just a show of _Ren._ His power could rival that of the Zodiacs at his age.”

 

“That would explain his incredible potential.” Kurapika noted, stepping forward to examine Gon's dozing face. Not a scratch on him surprisingly. Even when the room was exploding around them and things were flying in the tornado of chaos, he remained as untouched and unscathed as a perfect gem. This confirmed his suspicions and then some. “And this explains why the Chimera Ants held him captive in special containment. They saw what we had been ignoring this whole time.”

 

Leorio almost, _almost_ wanted to yell at his blonde friend for his tone of voice, but settled for giving him a well-hidden evil eye that wasn't as well hidden as he thought. The Kurta shot him a warning look and instantly he cowered, yelping like a little girl.

 

“Then, pray tell, what have we been ignoring this whole time, Kurapika? I'm curious to know.”

 

“His _Nen_ aura.” The answer was simple, blunt, to the point, and the chain-user pointed a free finger in the forest teenager's direction. All three men looked, Leorio gasping incredulously while Hanzo could only widen his eyes in surprise.

 

Activating _Gyo;_ where one focuses their _Nen_ into their eyes in order to pinpoint others auras, they realized immediately that, indeed, he was right. There was a faint aura radiating around his motionless body, barely there but present enough to detect. It was flowing serenely, actually, calm and collected, yet also dense and powerful. But it was definitely there alright.

 

How had none of them noticed it up until now? And they called themselves Hunters.

 

Shame.

 

“When did he..?” Hanzo blinked, baffled, “He didn't have that when he came in, did he?”

 

“He did. We just never bothered to look since we already knew everyone who already could utilize _Nen._ There was no point in constantly trying to detect it if nobody new was going to show up suddenly having the ability to use it _._ I knew I sensed something off about him. I just didn't think it would actually turn out to be _this._ I should have paid better attention so then maybe we could have prevented this incident from happening.”

 

“And you're supposed to be the smart one.” Leorio smirked. Kurapika smacked him with another spare chain, effectively crushing any further remarks or protests.

 

“The office is fine, Kurapika. Destroy it all you want, we'll be leaving in a few days anyway.” Hanzo reassured, not bothering to spare the destruction another blink of his eye, focusing instead on Gon. “Right now, our primary concern is him and what we will do with him now that we know he can use _Nen,_ especially at that level of caliber. He could pose a serious threat to the Chimera Ants if he were trained properly.”

 

The doctor muttered, carding his fingers through what little hair he had. “Does that mean you are you going to recruit him then? For this stupid, god-forsaken WAR? He's just a kid! No one should be forced into a position they don't want to be in. I mean, geez, just look at Killua! He's... He's-”

 

“We know, Leorio. We know what you mean, but it is his decision in the end. We shouldn't try to dictate his life, not at a crucial time like this. Gon should be allowed to decide his own fate and pick his own path. It's the least we can do when we're in the middle of a war. What else would there be if he couldn't do at least that?” The shortest of the men spoke, words soft, motherly almost, typical of Kurapika. He stepped forward, reeling in the youngster, to which Leorio promptly took the initiative and scooped him up into his arms as soon as they deemed it safe to free him from his iron jail.

 

Gon's breathing had evened out considerably, his body limp and heavy, an evident sign he had entered deep sleep. Leorio cradled him lightly, sharing knowing looks between his fellow comrades before he started making his way out with the teen in tow. At least the hallway door was still intact. Kurapika and him stood in the doorway, Hanzo's eyes not leaving the boy they were taking away. It was obvious he was still lost in his own thoughts but was withdrawing from the subject for the sake of Gon's future.

 

“For now, keep an eye on him.” He motioned, turning his back to survey the wall damage leading outside. “Let him recover and then we'll figure things out from there. I know you guys will help him decide whats best after all.” The ninja leader threw them a small thumbs up and a smile their way. “I trust you both to take care of him. You two are pretty good at that sort of thing. Heh. Good luck.”

 

The pair mimicked the gesture, their thumbs returning the favor. They walked out, leaving Hanzo to stare, lips pressed in a thin line while his gaze roamed over the still smoldering damage. The trees were smoking, smashed and charred beyond belief. The walls were crumbling in itself, dust and debris lingering at the leader's feet. He kicked a stray lump of cement out onto the grass and hummed, darting his focus to the sky.

 

“It feels like things are finally looking up, aren't they?”

 

He rubbed his hands together and laughed, resolved to smiling faintly at the sun beaming proudly against that clear blue background, not a cloud in sight.

 

“I can't wait then to see where this all goes in the end.”

 

After all; maybe, just maybe, there actually was just a little bit of light in those dark, hopeless shadows.

 

* * *

 

 

_Poke._

 

“...Mmm.”

 

_Poke._

 

“...Mmmmm...”

 

_Poke._

 

“..Muhhhmm.. hmm...”

 

_Poke._

 

A hand swatted at the offending digit and missed, forcing Gon to roll over with his back to whomever had the nerve to keep prodding at him when he was clearly trying to sleep. All he really wanted was to remain in deep, fulfilling slumber where his body was at ease and his mind relaxed.

 

The idea of rising to a new day just didn't sound appealing enough.

 

He drifted off again shortly after; somehow lulled by the soothing touch that was tracing feather-light patterns across his shoulder blades, oddly comforting. This had Gon snoring lightly the moment his body sunk into sleep, leaving Killua Zoldyck to scowl holes through the spiky head of hair with vengeance.

 

“Killua, what are you doing?” Kurapika's soft-spoken voice came from behind him. He didn't bother turning to give his reply like it was the most obvious reason ever.

 

“Poking this sleeping idiot.”

 

“And why would you be doing that so early in the morning? It's 7 A.M. Most everyone who isn't on the morning shift is sound asleep in their beds. Everybody is tired after helping assist the remaining Whale Islander's onto their voyage to Zevil Island. I know you didn't do much, but you have to be tired, too.”

 

“Because I feel like it.”

 

“...that's not a very valid reason to be poking someone who's sleeping, Killua.”

 

The cerulean eyed male shrugged, moving his poke spot from the arm to Gon's head now. His finger pressed hard enough to make the head lull and bob forward, earning weird mumbles and grumbles that made him snicker in victory. “But it's funny. This guy makes the stupidest sounds ever.”

 

“His name is Gon. Not 'guy'.” corrected the blonde, brow raised.

 

“Whatever.”

 

As Killua returned to his game of 'poke different places to hear different sounds', Leorio trudged up from behind Kurapika with a look of complete bafflement, evident past the sleep he was still rubbing out of his half-closed eyes. He glanced between his friend and the new tag-along insistently prodding the crap out of Gon's shoulder blades while he make the strangest grunt sounds, before clearing his throat to speak. “Should I even ask what's going on here, or should I just start strangling the brat ahead of time and get the deed over with?”

 

“Leave him be. Gon will probably end up doing your job for you at the rate this is progressing.” sighed Kurapika, walking over to pour the water from his pitcher into the empty glass at Gon's bedside. He had woken up in and out the past day since that traumatic incident, getting up to drink and use the bathroom, nothing more. It was a troubling sign, but they best left the youngster be to sort out his emotions on his own.

 

They figured he would need time to recover since remembering all those horrible memories. Giving him space was the least they could do.

 

And Killua was doing the exact opposite; that ass.

 

Kurapika picked up the now-stale uneaten bread from last night and shoved the tray haphazardly into Leorio's empty hands, face a look of strict-authority that made even the doctor's shoulder square up on trained instinct. “Get him some new food for breakfast since you seem to obviously be done with all your chores for the morning. After that you can finish tidying up this room. It's still a mess and the nurses don't do nearly good of a job as _you_ do, _Leorio._ ” That emphasizing tone hanging on every syllable of his own name made the older adult cringe. Damn Kurapika and his obsessive need for cleanliness. Damn himself for being so easy to give into his best friend, even.

 

God damnit it all.

 

Kurapika gestured to all the now empty cots having been cleared since the Whale Island citizens had been shipped off, including the very few who enlisted to join the cause. Leorio paled. There was sheets thrown everywhere, pillows in utter disarray; most not even on their cots anymore! The dirt that had gathered would take hours to sweep and all the dried blood no one had bothered clearing was now sticking to places that would need bucket loads of soapy water to scrub and then some!

 

Who the hell trained those nurses to clean? This wasn't remotely even CLOSE to even looking semi-decent!

 

“Just kill me now...” Leorio voiced out loud, not even bothering to hide his sorrow as Kurapika started pushing the man out the door, huffing all the while. “Where's my gun, yeah, that might just do the trick.”

 

The shorter man thwacked his taller friend on the head, earning a whimper of protest. He threw his finger in the correct direction and watched while Leorio practically dragged his feet, trudging onward to do his duty. In hindsight, he kind of resembled a kid who had just been scolded by his parents to clean their room, the way they whined and pouted while walking the death march to that tornado of a disaster waiting for them. As pitiful as he looked, Kurapika couldn't help but smile, giggling at Leorio's antics. They never ceased to amuse him.

 

Returning to his attention at hand, Kurapika made his way back over to where Killua was thoroughly enjoying himself while prodding a particular spot on Gon's lower back that made the boy actually _squeal_ in his sleep. How he managed to do that and not wake was beyond illogical.

 

“Killua, how did you even get in here? It was locked when I left last night and I know for a fact Gon never left this room, either.” started up the Kurta, hovering off to the side cautiously. Even if Killua had suddenly decided they were worthy of having a conversation with him, doesn't mean he was still trustworthy enough to believe he wouldn't try anything. And when one stumbles upon the strange, mystery assassin at 6 A.M. in the morning, alone with their new 'special' arrival, staring at him like a starving animal would at its prey; well, you would certainly be on edge.

 

The eyes of a killer were something you could never erase with time or age. That was fact.

 

“Doors like these are the easiest things to pick; a child could have done better. You should consider upping the security on some of your more precious cargo. One day you might regret it.” That sarcastic, know-it-all tone was grating to the nerves. It made his spine twitch down to the tip of his toes uncomfortably.

 

“Dully noted.” Kurapika amended, knowing the silver headed one did have a point. Their base may had been guarded by able-bodied warriors but break them down and you'd have easy access to everything inside. Welcome to the candy store. The food's free.

 

“Why are you here, then? You obviously didn't come looking for a check-up on those _wounds_ from Leorio and I highly doubt you came just because you 'felt' like it as you already put it. So explain.”

 

Killua gaffed, feigning that betrayed, horrified look only one could give when a friend actually _does_ betray you for real. But this was overly faked. The chain-user had his hand up faster than Killua could blink, not moved by the sudden show of intimidation. The tinkling of his metal rubbing against itself rang loud and clear. “Why should I explain myself to you?” He said, upturned eyes falling on those iron weights floating magically in the air not more then three inches from his face, “You probably wouldn't believe any of my answers anyway, now would you? I know neither of you guys trust me, but you should seriously calm your tits, _lady_.”

 

The blonde hunter did not respond, those gray orbs honed in on him spelling out his death sentence, forcing the blue eyed one to sigh out of exasperation. “Geez, calm down. I'm joking. I'm not going to do anything to him. I just randomly felt like checking up on the only guy I actually managed to _save_ back at that prison. Is that so wrong?”

 

“No.” Teeth chewed on a shiny bottom lip, wet from the moisture of the morning dewy air, “I just find it really strange we haven't seen you in quite some time and suddenly you show up looking so interested to see _him._ Why weren't you interested when we first brought him back to the base?”

 

Killua seemed to think this over for a moment, Kurapika finally lowering his chains for the time being. He could bring them back up in a flash if need be. It would be best not to waste energy trying to look threatening in the presence of a _real_ danger. One he knew could beat him to the clock in but a blur.

 

“It's because,” The adolescent murmured, obviously choosing his words carefully, “He's the first person we've actually saved that's the same age as me. A _teenager_ just like me. I didn't realize it at first, but of all the people we've saved thus far, not one of them have been teenagers that actually _lived_ to see those stinky old things you call hospital beds. It's like the Ants get a kick out of carefully torturing us middle-age guys to a slow and agonizing death. This is the first time any of us have ever been able to talk to another teenager that isn't _horrible little_ _me._ ”

 

Kurapika could feel the painful sting of hurt all the way from where he stood; which was a considerable distance from where Killua sat on the side of Gon's bed. It tugged on his chest, constricting, lecherous as it wormed its way into his most private feelings and twisted them into something much darker. Against his will.

 

The truth was; it wasn't exactly secret the way people treated Killua Zoldyck around the camp. Everyone clearly had a spark of either distrust or _envy_ for the insanely powerful teenager that was obviously renowned for his families underground affiliations. Assassination was just one of many things the world was filled with; something commonly seen among the Blacklist Hunter realm, actually. Kurapika had witnessed it many times before and to work alongside and interact with the actual assassin himself wasn't something too strange of a daily occurrence to him.

 

That didn't stand true to the rest of their fellow Hunters, however, many walking on edge; feet tapping over glass whenever in the Zoldyck's general audience. Fear and disgust was venom in their eyes, a back-lash he was sure that stung the hapless teenager every single day. Their words were the whips and their condescending, critical gazes were the knives that Kurapika could only fathom Killua suffered another wound day in and day out for.

 

A cursed fate. Something they both shared, in actuality. Kurapika sympathized for him.

 

“You actually kept track all this time?” The Kurta fought to ask further when the growing silence became tight-lipped, raking his own mind for the proof of it. As much as he was one to psychoanalyze everything, he just couldn't quite remember every single _face_ of the people they had saved. He did know that many of the lives who were lucky enough to make it onto those 'stinky old hospital beds' often were severely wounded men and women who, nine times out of ten, had just lost their children and all their remaining family members in one fail swoop.

 

The people most luckiest to survive through hell, they say. But to actually keep track to such a intricate detail was absurd.

 

“Yep.” was all Killua managed, blinking while Gon shifted restlessly in his sleep. His finger absently began to draw patterns in the sheets behind his back, as if contemplating whether or not to touch him again without permission.

 

There was a few minutes of long, awkward silence before Kurapika coughed the early morning dryness from his throat and spoke up again, gentler this time. “Well, I'll have you know, _Gon_ is doing very well. Minor injuries but nothing substantial enough to inhibit him from having a surviving chance through this war. You should be proud of yourself. You rescued him pretty much unscathed, a feat worth being happy about.”

 

“I'm not the one who healed him.” Killa instantly retorted, bangs casting shadows on his face, dancing in the breeze rolling out the only window in the room just above the bed. “Leorio did. There's nothing anyone should be thanking me for. I didn't do anything.”

 

“But you are the one who found him and pulled him out of that wreckage and if it hadn't been for you, Gon would have probably been-”

 

“Will you just SHUT UP?” A yell, strangled, a little broken up. Killua's voice cracked from the strain, forcing Kurapika to take a step back from the precautionary tone. Those broad shoulders were trembling, clenched fists on the bed side were coloring red with blood from his cut palms.

 

_What's gotten into him?_

 

Taking a deep breath, Kurapika pushed himself to walk forward another foot, standing within arm reach of the youngest recruit. “Killua.” He kept his voice as calm and composed as possible, anything to prevent a ticking time bomb from exploding. The best thing he could think of was to change the topic, throwing out something that had been on his mind since he tailed them to that cell. Hopefully it wouldn't be too sensitive to cause a stir. “How did you know where to find Gon? You skipped all the other doors you passed. There were still prisoners trapped in those cells. Why did you go to Gon's cell in particular? Did you know he was in there?”

 

As impossible as it sounded, Kurapika wasn't privy to disbelieving the impossible. No one could have magical 'people' senses and if someone were to have that type of _Nen_ ability, well, he would say that would be a waste of one's own aura. That's what all the worldwide online access for Hunters was for. If you couldn't find your information there, then you were out of luck.

 

The Hunters were; after all, the pinnacle of power and status on the planet. There was no higher ranking.

 

Sighing like he knew he was losing control, Killua slumped his shoulders, head hung, and uncurled and curled his fists slowly in an effort to keep his cool. His fingernails were laced in flecks of red. “Yeah, I knew where he was. That bastard of a prison leader rambled on and on about him like he was a _prize_ he had won. Like a fucking **trophy.** Then he was bragging about how he was going to use Gon to up his status in their ranks like some kind of stupid bargaining chip to gain power. Pathetic right?” He chewed on his bottom lip till it bruised from the gnashing. “The way those sick _freaks_ treat humans like garbage, like they can just use us however they see fit to benefit themselves. It's fucked up. It's-”

 

Killua's voice broke off, Kurapika almost missing the strangled sob he could see him choking back on when knuckles were pressing hard into his teeth to prevent it from being discernible.

 

It was surprising seeing someone that everyone believed to have a heart of stone actually experiencing real feelings, hurting. And to be doing it out of the compassion for another whom you've only just met was something Kurapika was still coming to terms with, even when he happened to be the one watching it happen right in front of him.

 

To watch the actual Killua Zoldyck himself break down for the sake of a stranger was the true shock of a lifetime.

 

“I didn't know you felt so strongly about all this, Killua.” The blonde managed in a meek whisper, looking away before he let his own bubbling emotions get the better of him. He could relate; he knew all too well how Killua felt. The Chimera Ants were indeed ruthless; _heartless_ even.

 

They were selfish, despicable creatures that needed to be annihilated, no exceptions.

 

After a long standstill, Kurapika said, “But you know, I understand.” Those guarded shoulders loosened, only by a tad; but a tad nonetheless. “I understand completely how you feel Killua. The Chimera Ants are vile creatures that need to be eradicated. They don't care anything about the feelings of others as long and all they feed off of is the misery and suffering of all the innocent lives they've taken. But, with this war, we'll make sure that stops. Too many that never deserved to suffer have already been lost. That's why there are people like Leorio and I; and even you, that are here fighting right now, trying to make up for those who died a needless death. We; the Hunters, are seeking to stop anymore people like Gon here from having to hurt any longer. So, I do get it; what you've said. And you're not alone in this.”

 

There was a faint glimmer, a small light; Kurapika only caught it for a moment trapped in a plume of sapphire blue begging to be free. It left him breathless when they stared right back into his own, enrapturing. It was intense, powerful; he couldn't pull away. Like a magnet, he was caught. He didn't fight it, didn't even try.

 

Those tiny, pale lips opened, words dancing on the tip of the tongue and voice barely on the air. But Kurapika listened, silenced his breathing and his heart beat for the sake to hear; to _know_. Questions that had answers, hidden and hushed to secrecy. Now was his chance.

 

“..Kurapika, I just-”

 

_BAM._

 

The obscene bang of the door opening suddenly uprooted both men out of their cemented spots. Kurapika jumped back a considerable distance but it was nothing compared to how high Killua flew, flipping the chair over in his leap onto the windowsill he clutched until his fingers turned white. Again, with those uncanny cat-like reflexes of his.

 

Leorio stood in the door way, oblivious, with that stupid smile on his face that slowly was becoming a contemplative scowl, tray loaded with breakfast goodies, and looking back and forth between the pair in total confusion. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” He asked, louder than necessary. Between seeing his golden-haired friend in a pose befitting of the person who finds the scary bug everyone hates on the floor and Killua practically clawing at the glass pane like it would grant him freedom if his nails could just dig through; Leorio was lost.

 

Of course, there was also innocent little Gon snoring away peacefully on his cot, arm dangling off the side with his leg edging closer to meet it on the floor. A little bit of drool had gathered at the corner of his mouth and was sticking to his face and pillow. _Gross._

 

Calmly, Kurapika patted down his robes with a huff. He was the first to take initiative, walking over to pick up the fallen chair while Killua was trying to pry his claws out of the glass without forcefully shattering it. “Nothing is going on, Leorio. You just surprised us is all. You could have at least knocked before coming in so abruptly.” His gray orbs caught the sight of all the unhealthy trash only Leorio could think to bring back for a growing teenager. He could imagine how bad the doctor's diet had been growing up himself.

 

“It looked more like I dropped a bomb off right in front of you guys, actually, judging by your crazy reactions.” laughed Leorio, setting the tray down once Killua used it as a step stool to land back on the floor like the rest of the normal people in the room. “Sheesh, I leave you two alone for ten minutes and I swear you're both ready to blow. What's got you all so fired up?” Both boys shot him heated glares, their faces colored pink. Dawning highlighted Leorio's expression, making him gasp incredulously like he was just burned, “Wait, wait! Don't tell me! Judging by both your guys' obvious blushes, you were having the sex talk already weren't you?! And you didn't think to include me?!”

 

“What the actual fuck, you old _GEEZER_! YOU'RE FUCKING SICK. _SICK_.”

 

“...I give you permission to kill him, Killua. Go ahead. Kill him. Kill him now.”

 

“Hey, who's side are you people on!” Leorio bemoaned, dodging the chair and pillows flying his way, “It was a joke! IT WAS A JOKE! CALM DOWN!” His pitch rose in volume until he emitted the girliest shriek ever, unable to avoid the onslaught of two entire beds being thrown at him. It smashed him into the nearby wall, successfully destroying the thin layer like it was paper. Leorio laid in a messy heap half in and half out with the broken remains by his side, sniffling in betrayal.

 

“Stupid teenage brats. Stupid best friends with girly bodies and attitudes. Stupid blondes with man PMS every time I do something wrong. Stupid-”

 

The oldest man continued to grumble to himself, ignoring the gaping stares of some passerby soldiers looking totally baffled at how to react. Kurapika and Killua shared a laugh together, pointing at the barking doctor who refused to get help out of his bind. Leorio was stubborn to a fault as he freed his own self, stating something along the lines of 'Protecting my manly pride' and more 'Stupid people and their stupid pranks' rambling.

 

But at least it lightened the mood considerably. What hung as a dark, solemn cloud moments ago was now clean, crisp, and white.

 

“Hey, food.” Killua's eyes were magically drawn to the heap of steaming hot edibles. He reached and plucked the biggest strip of piping hot bacon he could find, savoring its greasy flavor with an audible smack of his lips. “How did you know I didn't eat breakfast yet, gramps? Thanks.”

 

“The foods not for you, brat! And who're you calling _gramps_?Seriously? Do I look like a grandpa! I'm only 24!”

 

“You look 44 then, to me. 54 tops.”

 

“So help me God, I'm going to kill you-”

 

Kurapika rubbed his temples with his dominant forefingers, “Killua, if you're going to eat some of that garbage, at least save some for Gon when he wakes up. He hasn't eaten in a day, so I'd like to see him at least put something in his stomach.”

 

Killua stopped to pause from snatching up a slice of toast, looking bothered. “He hasn't eaten in over a day? Why? Did something happen?”

 

“It's a long story-”

 

“IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, YOU UNGRATEFUL TERD!”

 

Leorio was heaving ragged breaths, standing at the end of the bed with a wild gleam in his eyes and his clothes now utterly ruined after saving himself from two beds actually _thrown_ at him. It was too early in the morning to be dealing with this shit. His hands made an effort to grab Killua but the kid jumped to the side, brow raised curiously. He dodged a few more lunges until Leorio settled for sagging and collecting the wasted breath back into his overtaxed lungs.

 

“Tch. It is my business when I'm the one who saved him. So I do have a right to know.”

 

“Hey, wait, you just said a moment ago that-” Kurapika tried to bring up, slightly jokingly, but was effectively rendered to silence by the hot glare Killua shot his way, trying not to chuckle under his breath anyway.

 

_Teenagers._

 

“What happened to him?” The pale-skinned one pressed further, keeping eye contact intently on Gon's dozing face. “Was it something bad?”

 

“It wasn't bad. It was more like-” The words rolled around in the Kurta's mouth a moment, picking how to say it wisely without giving away too much. He glanced down at Gon himself, rubbing his cheek. “It was more like we discovered exactly _why_ the Chimera Ants had him specially contained. It took a toll on him, but it explains the reasoning behind his specific imprisonment.”

 

“Are you referring to the fact this guy can use _Nen_? I would think that be a legit reason to have him confined to a reinforced cell then.”

 

“You knew?!” both adults shouted out, stunned from the shock. _When? How?_

 

“Duh.” Killua replied monotonously with a face that masked the same feeling, pointing down at Gon. “I knew it the second I laid eyes on him that he could.”

 

“But how-?!” Leorio whined and clutching the fabric at the foot of the bed thoughtlessly. “None of us told you he could use it! We just found out yesterday!”

 

The youngest of the three then aimed his finger up at his now glowing eyes, aura flowing around them in smooth, wave-like motions. The expression he wore remained impassive, bored almost. “ _Gyo,_ morons.”

 

“Oh.” again, the two repeated in unison, and Killua was forced to shake his head with a sigh.

 

“Geez. And you guys call yourselves hunters. I thought it was, like, mandatory that you always use _Gyo_ whenever posed with an unfamiliar situation.”

 

“I know that!” the glasses-wearing man tried to defend, throwing a tantrum like a little kid, “I mean, of course I use it! All the time! Every single time I see something, yeah!”

 

“Leorio. You don't even remember what _Gyo_ is, do you?” It was Kurapika's turn to sigh forlornly now because he knew the outcome as soon as it started.

 

“Sure I do. _Gyo_ is when you push the aura into your eyes so you can-” And then he stopped, face twisting up humorously while he racked his brain for an answer that didn't come. “-so you can do something with _Nen,_ blah, blah blah.” He threw up his arms in submission but refused to admit defeat. “WHATEVER! It doesn't matter now! What matters is that now we know Gon can use _Nen_ which means we have to decide what should be done with him concerning this stupid war!”

 

“Isn't it obvious, old man? They'll make him enlist. And then they'll throw him on the front lines like a fresh piece of untrained meat to feed the wolves. He'll be gone the second he steps foot on the battlefield.” Killua ground out, teeth grit. That was what the Hunter Association always did, too absorbed in mandating the groups they already had to properly place any newcomers in respectable positions. He would be tossed out haphazardly with no regards to getting any formal training or knowledge of real live war tactics.

 

It was stupid. So stupid.

 

Sensing the others growing distress, Kurapika raised his hand up, a placeholder calling for a temporary truce. “That would be true if we were just going to hand him over to the association. But we spoke with Hanzo yesterday and he is letting Leorio and I personally decide Gon's fate for him. We could just as well send him off to Zevil Island with the rest of his folk, but first we to have to his own input before deciding what we should do.” Leorio nodded in agreement to this. “However, there is one thing that's for certain and that is we won't just give him over to the other hunters without giving him proper training and instruction on how to use _Nen._ It would be ridiculous and wrong to send him out to battle without being given an actual fighting chance of surviving. You are right, it would be like sending him to an early grave.”

 

“That sounds logical.” Killua muttered, “If we were to train him how to use _Nen_ properly, at least if something happens, he could fend for himself. That makes perfect sense. Then it wouldn't matter where he went after that, especially if he decided to join the war effort, too.”

 

Kurapika was bobbing his head like he understood exactly what Killua was talking about the entire time but it was Leorio who took a turn for the worse.

 

“Hey, wait a moment, what do you mean _WE_ Killua!? It's Kurapika and I, not Kurapika, I, AND Killua! There's no way we're letting a spoiled brat like you help train Gon!”

 

Like he knew that retort was coming, the cool-headed albino stared down the taller man with a look of high authority only a captain could give. With the strength to back him up, it wasn't even a challenge.

 

“Excuse me, but who here has the most battle experience ranking second after Hanzo?”

 

“...Well technically Pokkle, but I guess you come pretty close.” Leorio meekly responded, avoiding looking at the glare sent his way. He didn't even have to think about it to know the answer. He knew he was in a losing battle but he still tried anyway.

 

“And who here has a rigorous background of training and fighting prowess with the knowledge of how to train someone the same skill as well?”

 

“...Probably you since Kurapika and I are mostly book smarts. I've never even touched foot in a training gym before.”

 

“And who here also happens to be very diverse in his _Nen_ unlike you two chumps who stick to just one boring trick after another?”

 

“Hey, at least Kurapika's chains can-”

 

“And WHO here, pray tell, is totally bad ass hard core and knows how to kick those stinky, rotten Chimera Ant's asses like nobody's business?”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me-”

 

“ _ME_ that's who!” cried Killua, snapping Leorio backwards like a broken bow from the shock of the teenager's higher pitched voice. It really did betray his age. And his gender (but no one would ever dare admit to that). “Plus, he's my age, so we would be able to get along much better than if you two scraggly adults tried to drill him one. So, I will take on the responsibility of training him, save you two the unneeded stress of dealing with another pesky _teenager._ Then we can all move on with our lives in peace. Sound fair?”

 

“Why do you want to train him so bad, Killua?” asked Kurapika, ignoring his best friend's ear-grating noises from the floor on which he lay. “Less then a week ago you were giving everyone the cold shoulder like you've done since the beginning of our squad's formation. Now, you're talking to us like we've been your comrades since birth. I find it really strange you're acting so friendly with us and yet to give an explanation as to _why._ What are your motives? How will you benefit from training Gon?”

 

The expression that crept over Killua's face was startling, more so then the previous one he had just encountered. Kurapika wasn't sure if he wanted to consider it a look of concern or worry or something else caught in between. Even though it was only for a split second; because of course he rushed to hide those creeping emotions as fast as they appeared behind those long silver bangs, it was obvious Killua had some sort of attachment to Gon. Kurapika just couldn't place exactly _why_ that would be and normally he would be privy to all sorts of possibilities. He knew for starters that they only had just met, right? Then how could the Zoldyck become so close to someone he had only just seen not more then a few days ago?

 

It just didn't make sense.

 

“I want-”

 

“Killua Zoldyck, you're being requested by Hanzo.” interrupted a smallish voice of another hunter, his tiny head of shaggy brown hair peeking over the edge of the gaping hole in the wall. His eyes were wider than saucers, apparently so terror-stricken that he didn't want to even try getting near the door less something dangerous happen to make matters worsen. He was even visibly shaking. It may have been odd to see a grown man shaken by just a mere hole, but it was still pretty hilarious to watch. As soon as he had appeared though, he was gone, scared too _shitless_ to stay for more then a few seconds to deliver a message. Typical behavior whenever it involved _Killua_.

 

“Well, what a surprise! I'm being called by our fearsome leader! Looks like I'll have to leave you hanging, so-!” Out of nowhere, Killua began laughing, hopping backwards and away from the questioning stares of the older pair while his hand waved himself off in a hurry, “Gotta go! See yah later, creeps! Don't forget I'm training Gon!”

 

“Killua, wait-!”

 

But it was too late. He was long gone the moment those words greeted the air, leaving them both in silence. Kurapika and Leorio exchanged looks before Gon's quiet mutters stole their attention and the two sighed contentedly, letting it go for the time being.

 

It would be best to press on the subject later. For now, they both settled to enjoy the peaceful soundless that shrouded the room like a soft, warm sheet.

 

It was comforting.

 

Absolute silence for a change.


	8. A brittle, broken Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua has his small meeting with Hanzo and remembers just how wily their bald leader really is. Gon finally wakes after the incident but there's something completely out of the ordinary on his mind. A mystery that Gon; as determined as always, intends to figure out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. This is late. And short. The next few following chapters are much longer; your eyes might water from the strain of reading so many words lol. So settle for this small part until I crank out the bigger stuff. My plot is finally unfolding yippee.
> 
> Sorry for the lateness and thanks yah guys for support as always.~
> 
> ENJOY.

**8**

 

“Killua.”

 

“Hanzo.”

 

“Killua.”

 

“Hanzooooooo...” The 'o' was drawn out for so long that it made Killua's voice vibrate, deep in his throat, until eventually subsiding until his voice squeaked. “Bald man.”

 

The bald man face palmed, covering up his chuckle. “Really? Was that necessary?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“You're being honest for a change. I'm impressed.” Hanzo quirked a brow, pen tapping on the replacement table he was using now instead of the shattered remains of his old desk. “Did something happen I should know about to change your attitude? Normally you're giving me the cold-distant look we are all so familiar with.”

 

“Guess today I just didn't feel like playing as the usual old me, then.” Killua furrowed his brow like he was offended, squirming in the only chair left in such a mess of what would be an office if it didn't look like a train hit it, “Are you going to get to the point of dragging me here? Your place is an absolute wreck.” A tiny laugh. “Did you get in a fight or somethin'? Throw a temper tantrum? Forget to have your morning cup of coffee and have a rage fit?”

 

The leader shook his head, dropping his writing instrument on the cool plastic frame, hands splaying over the papers scattered there in thought. “None of that actually. But nice try! It's not really anything to be concerned about it. If you want to, call it, an experiment.”

 

“An experiment? What kind of experiment demolishes a room until it's nothing but ruins?”

 

“A helpful experiment, actually.” Hanzo smirked, leaning forward with his chin on his hands. Was he taunting him? With that look he had to be taunting him. “Are you interested?”

 

Killua's eyes narrowed suspiciously, knowingly, but he remained motionless in his seat, not taking the bait. “No. I'm not interested.”

 

“Oh, come on Killua, that's no fun.”

 

“I'm not here to alleviate your boredom. I'm here because you; the leader of our faction, called for me. So what is it?”

 

“Just take a guess at least. I'm really curious to know.”

 

Sighing in defeat, because Killua knew Hanzo was like some incurable prankster, he resigned and gave in. They didn't have much else to do when not infiltrating bases and rescuing prisoners from the clutches of carnivorous mutant _Ants._ He might as well follow along, too. He had nothing better to do, anyway, stuck in the same predicament as everyone else wound up in this crazy war. “It has to do with your newly acquired special-detainee prisoner, Gon Freecs, doesn't it? He's the one who wrecked your office.”

 

“Oh? That's a pretty bold statement to accuse someone over, Killua. What makes you think that?”

 

Killua's facial expression boasted nothing but confidence and calmness in his posture as he spoke. His speculation was as natural as breathing, Hanzo knew. The kid was smart. “It's pretty obvious if you think about it. Kurapika and Leorio themselves mentioned that they just learned Gon could use _Nen_ yesterday. Your room has obviously just been recently damaged, judging by the way the wall is still crumbling and the dirt is fresh. The splintered pieces of wood from your wrecked furniture is only coated in a layer of dust, estimating at least a day or two at best by the amount of coverage. The trees in the background have very recent burn marks on them. I can guess it was from a very large amount of _Ren_ aura being extruded in very big but short bursts. There are also traces of leftover _Nen_ still hanging in the air but it's very faint now. And lastly, seeing from the way you're looking at me while I'm saying this, you know I am correct. Gon must have unleashed his _Nen_ yesterday, intentionally or not, and that is the reason why your office has been destroyed.”

 

Hanzo's face showed how impressed he was without a hint of hesitation. “Wow. Perceptive as always. Just what I would expect from a highly trained Zoldyck assassin.”

 

“Please refrain from associating me with those nimrods.” The white-haired youth spoke immediately, averting his eyes from being caught by the others inquisitive one. “It's bad enough everyone knows my last name. It'd just be better if everyone forgot about it and moved on with their lives. It's not like it matters much anyway.”

 

“You're still so defensive about them.” The bald man's smile faltered, “That hasn't changed with age has it?”

 

Killua retorted without hesitation. “Why should it? All those selfish bastards want from me is to take over the family business. It ain't happening so they should stop trying already and leave me the hell alone. We're at war. They should be focusing more on that then their stinking underground _shit._ Now, are you going to tell me why you called me here or not? Because at this rate, it's going to be lunch and I'm starving.”

 

A small sigh had Hanzo shaking his head, flicking at the tip of his pen so it spun circles on the tabletop. He was regretting what he had to say next, already knowing the outcome, but he had to say it anyway. Their squadron was already on tip-toes as it was with the Zoldycks just because Killua insisted to join so he could piss off his parents, but he didn't need to be walking on a thin wire next because of it.

 

“Well fine; as much as I detest telling you, your brother, Illumi, called for you. He wants to see you in the next few days when we board the ships to the Padokia Providence. Your home place, too, might I add. I don't think it's a coincidence, but I haven't pressed matters as of yet. However, he was very serious about meeting up with you from the way he spoke to me on the phone last. The Hunter Association and the Zoldycks have been arguing it out for some time and they finally placed Illumi onto a team. Unfortunately for us, it's the other **Silver Squadron.** ”

 

Killua's response came instantaneously. The teenager did little to hide his loud swear, teeth gnawing to draw blood from his lip. His reaction was easy to read now that every time the mention of his brother came up he would repeat it in practiced steps.

 

First, Killua's eyes would widen for a moment then narrow to mere slits. Usually a curse word or two would follow, muttered so low under his breath that only an expert ear could catch it. Then he would bite his lip, almost always drawing enough blood to slide down his chin. His chest would rise, shudder, and quickly settle as he exhaled a shaky breath. Hanzo guessed his heart rate sped up to a mile a minute, on top of all that.

 

And then like he normally would, Killua would up and leave without a word.

 

The kid was rising just as planned, not bothering to slow the quickness of his actions so the chair toppled to the ground. He was turning, feet aimed for the door when Hanzo set his hand down upon that tense shoulder, drawing another wobbly exhale from Killua. It was obvious he was struggling, but his self-control was unflappable. He could manage.

 

“I know you don't want to see him, but the fact is you know yourself you can't avoid it. Hell, I wish I could have avoided him during _my_ time taking the Hunter exam. But he _is_ a part of the **Silver Squadron** now **,** after all. They probably placed him on the attack team for a reason and we were bound to be forced to travel together at some point when making our rendezvous. That's why I have a proposition for you. It might win some favor over with your parents to at least keep you around a little longer. I know they've been hounding the Association enough as it is. But, you're an invaluable member to this squad and I'd like to do whatever I can in my power to prevent them from taking you away at a crucial time such as this. So, hear me out, will you?”

 

It took a few minutes for Killua to respond, visibly relaxing only a smidgen to speak with a quiet, hoarse tone. It was forced but it was a start. “What do you want me to do?”

 

It wasn't right away, but the sliest grin gradually wormed its way up the bald man's lips, leaning forward so his mouth hovered inches from Killua's ear in order to keep the volume low and his words soft. His face was darkened by his mischievous intent. The Zoldyck teen held back a shiver, back straightening and shoulders squared as crystal blue eyes made contact with the darker one of their leader. They exchanged glances, almost as if they were talking to each other through them, soundless.

 

It was then Killua, too, started to snicker when he realized exactly what Hanzo had planned.

 

The man could be predictable sometimes, but his wild streak was uncanny for a leadership quality. He still rocked what he got though.

 

“Just you wait, Killua. You're going to love it.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Gon awoke some hours later, he found himself stretching the stiffness out of his limbs so far out he ended up knocking the full glass of water to the floor with a crash. The glass shattered and the noise-grating sound made the spiky-haired teen literally back flip over the opposite side, squealing in surprise.

 

_Thunk._

 

_Groan._

 

“Five more minutes...” Gon strained to mumble into the cool linoleum floor. From the bottom of his neck to the back of his head was a horrific throbbing pain, surely to result in a migraine sooner or later. The chill radiating against his cheek felt nice. He could lay here a few more minutes and pray the pain die out into a dull, manageable ache, save him the torture of waking up another day to hot-coals pricking his skin and blinding white agony all throughout his blood.

 

His nerves were on fire, he told himself. For whatever reason since yesterday, it was like his body had immersed itself in lava and had yet to cool down. He was burning, itching, and desperate for relief.

 

Even sleep had did little to curb the suffering.

 

He could clearly remember fighting his restlessness all throughout the day and night, constantly shifting and moving but nothing he did helped. Every time he thought he had found a comfortable position, he would drift off and spring back into a fit of wakefulness the second his eyes shut closed.

 

“This sucks.” He said quietly to himself, finding that he was absolutely alone in the room. Gon could have sworn he heard Kurapika and Leorio's voices earlier in his sleep but they were nowhere to be seen now.

 

And someone else, too, for that matter...

 

A stranger with an icy tongue and a cool, level-headed tone. With a voice unnaturally soft for a male, he had almost second guessed himself on the gender until he heard his name.

 

_Killua._

 

That name had been on his brain the moment he heard it, even imagining all sorts of visuals of what this _Killua_ looked like in his dreams, but all of them just didn't sit right with him. They just didn't fit.

 

Gon would have to see for himself who this Killua is and get a real good look at him. Then he'd be certain, confirm his suspicions he was also undoubtedly male for that matter. Gon was never a good judge of character upon first impressions. He needed a few times reminder to get the point across his scattered brain. But once he let it sink in, he had the memory of an elephant. He would never forget it then. Trying to remember all the names of the people on Whale Island was the exception; however, there was just too many.

 

Regrettably; as much as he'd love to lay on the comforting floor all day long, Gon made an effort to push himself up and lean against the bed, pricking his nails against his arms in an effort to ward off that burning itchy feel where there are nonexistent bugs crawling by the thousands under your skin and just out of reach.

 

“Where did everyone go?” His words bounced on the empty, hollow walls of his solitary room. All of the cots that he remembered clearly having patients from Whale Island in them were now all abandoned. It was just him occupying the only still-clean bed.

 

“Weird.” Gon commented to no one in particular, ignoring the ache in his bones to pull himself to his feet, albeit shakily, and hopped back onto the bed to take a better look around. Someone had left him water again in the now-broken glass and there was a fresh plate of breakfast foods on his bed stand; his memory too fuzzy to remember if that had been there this entire time or not. He reached forward, fingertips brushing over a piece of stray toast. Cold. It was way past morning if even the bread had lost its warmth.

 

He took a bite out of it anyway, stomach rumbling excitedly at the idea of getting something in it, so Gon hastily shoved the rest of the chilled pieces into his mouth and filled it with a few more other goodies until he was sated enough to feel less hungry. He ate fast to avoid the soggy grossness that always came when your food was no longer hot, so luckily he didn't have to linger on the sticky feeling that lingered in your mouth afterward.

 

Licking his parched lips, Gon glanced forlornly at the fallen glass of spilled water and pouted, cheeks puffed. “Now I'm thirsty but the water's on the floor. It doesn't look like anybody is coming back anytime soon. I guess I better go find some more then.” He threw his legs back over the cleared space beside his bed and marched out with jelly legs, trying to get the feeling back into them despite the burning protests shooting from the tips of his toes up. Whatever was wrong with him he would be sure to ask about that, too.

 

But first, a drink.

 

Peeking out the door, Gon made sure the coast was clear, and headed for the outside in the same direction he had taken when he went to explore the forest surrounding the building complex. Maybe he would pay another visit to that large tree he had visited, using it as a perch to scout the campsite and environment for anything familiar or suspicious. Something to point him in the right direction.

 

It's original purpose was to help him find Aunt Mito and Abe, but now...

 

He felt some sort of odd power sparking at his fingertips, strange, alien almost, and he had to clench his fists in order to keep it at bay. Swallowing hard the lump stuck in his throat, Gon reminded himself, ' _Don't think about it'_ , and kept right on walking even when he pushed through the exit and stepped into the fresh autumn air of the forest outside. Taking in a big, refreshing gulp of air, Gon sighed heavenward, delighted to have the taste of pine and wood back on his tongue, deep in his nostrils. He would admit; he loved the forest life more than anything. This was his home. There was nothing like dirt and mud sticking to your skin, slick and smooth, and the wonderful, rich natural scents that were so much better compared to those smoggy, ashen smells of city life. Gon had never truly visited a city but the stories he heard were enough to make him cringe a little at the change.

 

He did still want to visit a city; however, at least to feel and see the proof for himself of what it was really like.

 

The crunch of the leaves under his boots had his heart fluttering, one with nature, as he strode purposefully through the camp grounds high on uplifted spirits. The pain from earlier sobered up, settling to small, bearable throbs, but not enough to inhibit him from making his way in search of water and answers. Maybe even possibly finding Kurapika or Leorio, anybody recognizable really. As long as he could stumble onto something or someone who could give him the help he needed.

 

“Hey,” Gon stepped to the side, catching the first person to appear in the vicinity; a short man with a colorful turban over messy hair and a bow and quiver set slung over his shoulder. He flagged him down with a wave of his hand, luckily getting his attention right off the bat with his notion, “Can I ask you a question, please?”

 

“Sure.” The man said, his brow raising curiously, “But can I ask your name first? I don't recognize you. You're not one of the hunters assigned to our group.”

 

Laughing, Gon rubbed the back of his neck in his usual sheepish gesture, “Oops. Sorry about that. My name's Gon! Gon Freecs. I was one of those, uhm, prisoners you guys rescued a few days ago?”

 

“Gon Freecs..” The other nodded, absorbing the information thoughtfully, “I remember now! Kurapika told me about you. My name's Pokkle, second in command.” He held out his hand, getting an exuberant shake from Gon in return. “It's nice to meet a such a young survivor from Whale Island. The people here all have been really nice to us since we freed them. It was great seeing so many generous people for a change. I was pleasantly surprised.”

 

“Really? The people here on Whale Island are always really nice and cool. Even the people who pass through the port were very friendly and courteous, too, whenever I talked to them. I don't think there's ever been a bad person here before, ever. At least for how long I've lived here anyway.”

 

“Well, I'm glad to hear that Gon. It's made our stay here enjoyable, even through the fact that we are pretty much at war right now. Whale Island is indeed a beautiful place to live in.” Pokkle hummed, smiling somewhat. He liked this kid's enthusiasm. It was contagious.

 

Gon perked up, looking left and right excitedly. Hearing good things being said about Whale Island really boosted his moral. What bit of solemnity he was feeling earlier had been completely washed away now. Gon was focused on making the most of his situation. It was what his family would want for him to do, anyway.

 

“Where did the other Whale Island citizens go then?” he asked, head tilted in Pokkle's direction, “I didn't see them this morning when I woke up. All the beds were empty and I didn't see anybody else in any of the other rooms, either.”

 

“You don't know?” Gon shook his head. “They were shipped out yesterday and this morning. The few that signed up to join the war's cause were sent off to the back lines for assessment and training. The remaining others went to Zevil Island's safe house, as far away as possible from the battlefield.”

“I see... I didn't know.”

 

“Don't worry about it too much, Gon. They're safe where they are going. The Hunter Association believes that safety of the world's ordinary citizens takes top priority, so they will have the best care you can imagine.”

 

“No. It's not that I'm worried about.” Gon said, honestly, staring to the side at nothing in particular.

 

“Then what's wrong?”

 

The black-haired teen scratched the side of his cheek, chuckling under his breath meekly. “I'm just not sure what I should be doing then, now that their all gone.”

 

Pokkle blinked, adjusting the straps on his shoulders as he stepped forward to look down at the teenager matching close to his exact height. His aura wasn't anything impressive yet, but for someone inexperienced in _Nen_ he had a serene flow to his, like a person who had control of himself even in the dire of situations. He noted the broadness of his shoulders, his confident posture, muscles taut and tense like an _animal_ who had the trained inert desire to _hunt_ ; all this _potential_ and power this boy possessed held back by the uncertainty flitting behind those golden eyes. Kurapika was right. This Gon Freecs would be a powerhouse once he learned to properly wield _Nen._ If he could just give himself some purpose; a reason to fight, he would give the Chimera Ants a run for their money.

 

“Gon.” Pokkle spoke, snapping the adolescent from his daze, and chuckled in earnest at the puzzled expression he received, “I know it might not be of much help, but you should do what you believe is best for your own self. Trust your gut and run with it. I'm sure you'll figure out what it is you plan to do now in no time. Just don't spend too long thinking it over; this war is progressing pretty fast and it won't wait for you to decide your plan of action.”

 

“If you say so.” Gon replied monotonously, his face down cast in thought. “Thank you, Pokkle. Can I ask one last question?”

 

“Shoot.”

 

He was debating on which question to ask and it was obviously a no-brainer for any normal sane person. But Gon wasn't normal. And he was mostly sane, he thinks. He just couldn't shake that scratchy feeling of his still digging under his skin, persistent. That nagging, _I need to know_ , questioning that was grating on his nerves, pressuring and suffocating like a constricting snake who wound around his throat and squeezed out the things he really wanted to say but was too afraid to actually speak up for.

 

And he let it, against his will. The snake was much easier to obey then then the curious hound sniffing for the simpler, more understandable things. The smells you could track effortlessly were cast aside for the one far more intriguing and interesting. Much more _mysterious_.

 

And so Gon asked.

 

“Who's Killua?”


	9. There's no need to justify Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon finally meets Killua, but in a very unexpected way.
> 
> Killua catches the first glimpse of something else in Gon that they might just share in common.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the support. I appreciate it, no matter how small or big it is. I'm glad Gon and Killua finally come together cause now I can start digging into their relationship muhahaha build it up and up and crash it down with angsty tears and bloody war and - I MEAN LOVEY DOVEY STUFF AND SEX HAHAHAHAAH. Yep. I'm gonna get shot.
> 
> Enjoy.

**9**

 

“Who's Killua?”

 

Gon had done it. He had asked. There was no turning back. Of course, the logical question would have been to ask where Kurapika and Leorio were; and he was still curious about that honestly. But he couldn't get this _Killua_ out of his mind. He needed to know. And soon.

 

“Killua?” It took a minute for the second-in-command to respond, seemingly taken aback by the sudden mention of the other teenager, “Why would you want to know about him?”

 

“I'm curious.” Gon didn't hesitate to say, eyes burning with the hunger to know. “I heard his name awhile ago and I really want to know who he is. Do you know him? Do you know where I can find him?”

 

“I-... Y-yeah, I do. I know who he is.” Pokkle's voice was tiny, eyes darting side to side, like any moment and he would get in trouble for daring to mention that aforementioned name in public. He was evidently uncomfortable with the subject but Gon would take no lack of detail today.

 

“Where can I find him?” pressed Gon further, taking a step forward while the other stepped back.

 

“He's probably still in the office with Hanzo, our leader, right about now. I just finished my meeting with him and heard he had been called next. So he's probably-”

 

Pokkle didn't even get to finish the rest of his sentence before the wild-haired youth was already off and running, waving his thanks from afar with a skip in his step, leaving the turban-wearing man gaping in disbelief.

 

“ _He might have insane potential but he's pretty simple-minded and once he focuses in on something, he doesn't side-track until he's done with it.”_

 

The exact words Kurapika had told him. The blonde was right.

 

Gon Freecs would be a handful alright.

 

* * *

 

 

“Have you seen someone named Killua?”

 

The first time Gon asked that to some random passerby, the poor guy actually lunged backwards, flailed really quick and blubbered unintelligible noises that were three octaves too high for a male. He then took off running like a chicken with its head cut off and squawked all the way until he was out of sight.

 

“I'm looking for Killua. Do you know where I can find him?”

 

The second time got a better reaction. The woman who was double Gon's height had bent down to his level just to hear his own words and the moment he asked his question, she snapped back like a rubber band, back-flipped (wow she was flexible), and did a 180 degree turn in mid-air right after. As soon as her feet touched the ground she was gone in a flash.

 

“Killua.”

 

Gon didn't even bother asking the tenth time he managed to get someone to at least _look_ at him for that matter, because he knew the reaction the moment he even spoke the guy's name out loud what would happen. And this time was no different, the rather largely built soldier with muscles literally busting out his uniform, was trotting off with his knees reaching his chest, like he was running on hot coals, the split instant that name left Gon's lips.

 

Sulking, his cheeks puffed, the Freecs boy marched further across the grassy plain leading to the second building with his glare attempting to burn holes through the tips of his boots. Why did everyone avoid him whenever he said Killua's name? It was like some kind of infectious disease no one wanted to be jear of and the looks every single one of them gave him could only be described as disgust _._ Disapproval.

 

_Hate._

 

It was really setting Gon on edge and he hardly even knew the guy, the innate desire to be _defensive_ over something too hard to ignore. Gon had nothing now that was considered _his_ ; what was left of his surrogate family was gone from this lifetime and the only thing left for him to stay concerned over was an illusive father he'd probably never get to see with the war in progress. He couldn't protect them and now to hear people treating another person so harshly; even if he didn't know them, was ticking like a count down towards erupting. The unexplained need to pummel the words right out of their skulls was tempting, but Gon held himself back with what little self-control he possessed. He couldn't judge, Mito-san taught him never to judge a person's actions or words until you had viable proof they were correct.

 

But it still didn't curb his intense wanting to smash his fist into somebody's teeth for acting like another person was some kind of _monster_ everyone had to avoid whenever the mere mention of their name was brought up.

 

What was wrong with him lately?

 

He would make sure to speak his mind when he met this Killua, get all his nagging questions answered and then some. Maybe then he could better understand the strange feelings he was getting whenever he heard that name. He would also make sure to-

 

“Gon?”

 

Amber eyes shot up, wide and unfocused, with Leorio stepping back out of pure reflex, taken aback by the dark gleam he saw hiding, crouching like a predator ready to pounce. And right now it was directing itself at the only thing around; him.

 

“W-woah. Are you okay, Gon?” He slowly spoke, careful, cautious as to not step on boundaries he didn't want to get into, “You look like you're really mad. Did something happen?”

 

“No.” Gon replied automatically, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. Had it always been this hazy before? It must be a trick of the light. “I'm okay. You just surprised me, that's all.” Smiling; because smiles always won people over and reassured them, Gon made eye contact with Leorio and beamed, “It's good to see you, Leorio! I've been looking all over for you guys.”

 

“Really? Because we've been looking everywhere for you! You should see how frantic Kurapika was when he found out you weren't in your bed. Haha. He'll be glad to find out you're okay.” The taller adult laughed, calming just a tad. But only _just_ a tad.

 

Gon frowned when he noticed how tense Leorio was, worried he had disappointed someone again. Let someone down, _again._ His emotions really were playing a number on him today. “Did I really worry Leorio and Kurapika that much? I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't sweat it. All that matters is we've found you now, so I have to let Kurapika know before he flips the entire building over in his search. Come on, let's go. I'll take you to him now; he's in the soldier's barracks as we speak.”

 

“Wait.” Gon said, not following Leorio when he started walking away. The older adult glanced over his shoulder, eye brows raised questionably.

 

“What is it, Gon?”

 

“Where's Killua?” The words left his lips faster then he could think. Gon's face changed from surprise at his own actions to a noteworthy calmness, settled into the idea that he wouldn't regret asking. Not again after many previous failures.

 

“Killua?” Leorio fully faced the tanner boy while pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Gon mentally sighed in relief at the fact that Leorio didn't seem the least bit bothered when Killua was mentioned. That was a good sign; someone who didn't view the name like a plague upon the earth for a change. It eased his raging feelings slightly. “How do you know about Killua?”

 

“I heard you three talking in my sleep and his name popped up. I can't remember much more then that, but I've been trying to find him since I woke up.”

 

“Really?” The doctor looked perplexed, a little worried, “Why would you want to meet him?”

 

“I don't know. But I just do. Can you take me to see Killua?”

 

“..You are really serious about meeting him, aren't you?”

 

“Yeah.” The look in Gon's eyes said he would take no for an answer. He wasn't going to give up until he had his way.

 

“ _He's one of those kinds of guys, isn't he. Those straight-forward, simple-minded ones who can only think about one thing at a time and that's it.”_ Leorio mused, thinking as he surveyed the adolescent kid in front of him with a determined set of eyes firmly focused on one goal. A goal in which he intended to reach at any cost. The golden fire inside that hazelnut color spoke all he needed to know. Kurapika was right, again.

 

Damn, now he'd be down another fifty in the hole.

 

(' _I bet he's some super-happy horny brat who hugs everyone but is really getting off on it because JUST LOOK AT HIS SMILE. HE NEVER STOPS SMILING HE HAS TO BE GAY! Kurapika I think he's undressing me with his eyes! Look at how he's staring at us! Look, KURAPIKA-')_

 

He really needed to stop gambling with Kurapika. His luck sucked. And so did the bruises that accompanied it.

 

“Do you know where Killua is right now?” Gon pushed a second time, not dropping eye contact with the glasses-wearing man.

 

“Yeah. I do.” sighed Leorio, defeated, not wanting to fight a battle he might not win if this thick-headed kid was anything to go by, “He's in the mess hall eating, last Kurapika and I saw him that is. He should still be there now. He usually eats for twelve and starts slowing down around the fifth plate until he's done.”

 

Gon was already walking off like he knew his exact destination and Leorio started swinging his arms wildly as if to stop him. “Hey, w-wait! Wait for me, Gon!”

 

“You're coming with me?” The teenager appeared surprised, like it was new information to him.

 

“Of course I will!” Leorio did his best to imitate Gon's 'super-focused' look and was probably failing miserably judging by the way the kid's face twisted up humorously in response. “I can't just let you roam around this place without supervision. Everyone is on edge as it is since we're leaving tomorrow. I can't-”

 

“Wait, we're leaving Whale Island?” Now the surprise on Gon's face was very much there, very much readable to anybody who saw it. His focus was caught and there was nothing anyone could do to change it. Gon stopped walking so he could face Leorio now and hear what he had to say, his curiosity nagging him to do so.

 

“Yeah. We are headed to Padokia tomorrow. We were assigned to clear a few bases over there that are being overrun with some powerful Ants, but it's going to take a week or so just to get to the rendezvous point and we have to make several transportation transfers..”

 

“Is Killua going with you?”

 

“..well of course he is. He's a member of our squadron. So I wouldn't see any reason why he wouldn't _not_ go..”

 

“Can I come with you, too?”

 

Leorio blinked, head cocked to the side. Gon was staring at him, expression hard but all in seriousness. He was dead certain. “U-uh. Well, that's not up to us, really. It's yours.” He chuckled lightly, scratching the side of his cheek, “We actually decided to let you choose what you want to do at this point. Hanzo gave us permission to dictate what would become of you, but Kurapika and I agreed that we would rather have you pick your own path, you know? It wouldn't be fair letting two strangers you've hardly known for even a day, telling you what to do with your life.”

 

“For strangers, you two are really cool.” Gon piped up, smirking, “And really nice, too. If Leorio and Kurapika decided where I ended up, I wouldn't mind it.”

 

“You're too honest, kid. That's going to come back to bite you in the ass someday, you know.”

 

“I know.”

 

Sighing a second time, Leorio did himself a favor and smiled too. The kid was so brutally honest it wasn't even funny. But Gon really had an addictive personality, so cheery and carefree that it was as if the atmosphere just became much more _light_ because of it. He couldn't find a reason to stay negative too long around him. Whatever bad he felt was washed away with that positive attitude, flooding his senses like a tidal wave, all consuming. It was pleasant.

 

“Alright then! It's settled.” The bespectacled adult resented, nodding, “You'll come with us to Padokia. From there, you can decide what you want to do after that.”

 

“I'll help fight the Ants of course. I want to enlist.” Gon said, matter-of-factually, his mind obviously made up a long time ago if his facial expression was anything to play off of.

 

“I know you said that before already, that even Hanzo was a little skeptical on whether or not you really meant that. But, you know you could at least _think_ about it a little, bud. You don't have to jump right into the idea just because you want to 'help' us. Help your own self first.”

 

“I am helping myself by helping you.”

 

“What kind of logic brings you to that conclusion?”

 

“Mine?”

 

Leorio face palmed the side of his head so hard it actually echoed and left behind a ridiculous looking pink hand print on his cheek in all its humorous glory.

 

“You're really weird, kid. You know that right?”

 

Gon took about five seconds to process this information, his eyebrows furrowing this way and that, before he nodded and his grin threatened to swallow his face.

 

“Yep!”

 

“..let's just go find Killua already.”

 

Leorio resented; dropping all further conversation before his brain self-destructed trying to understand this teenage Whale Islander's mental acuity, Gon whooping with glee, and together the pair resumed their walk towards the dining hall with haste.

 

If anything to hurry before Kurapika actually did flip a building in order to find Gon.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _This tastes awful._ ”

 

That was what the only pure-white haired adolescent of **Silver Squadron** **2** was thinking as he chewed his piece of rubbery food, trying to get it to shrink down enough to at least swallow but the thing remained as intact as the last shreds of his sanity.

 

Leftovers were the worst. When they were left cold from sitting too long and not even the microwave could save them, you might as well eat the lint off your uniform or the rocks in your combat boots.

 

Killua didn't know what was wrong with him today, really, but it started when he foolishly decided to stand in line just like the rest of the other hunters waiting to get their lunch, much to the wide-eyed scrutinizing stares and hot, disgusted whispers from those around him. The people he was even standing with allowed him a wide birth, giving him incredulous looks like he was the ugliest thing on the planet. It didn't really bother him though, everyone in their squad was intimidated by the Zoldyck.

 

Except for Leorio and Kurapika, it seemed. He didn't really group them in with the others.

 

But even their acceptance of his honest nature didn't change the truth of the matter. The blood of those he's slain was still festering under those nails of his, unable to be scrubbed off; completely in plain sight. It was like a visual scar to remind him of what he was born to be. Who he really was.

 

Just another murderer in everyone's eyes.

 

When Killua finally had his turn up in front of the cafeteria bar, he requested anything they had leftover in specific, nothing recently made. Nothing fresh. The look of sheer disbelief on the woman's face when he walked away with a pile of trays buried in miscellaneous food items all wrapped in saran wrap and foil, would have been picture-perfect priceless if he had even bothered to take a second to see it.

 

His stomach was really regretting that dumb move of his right about now.

 

Two trays in with four more to go and already the bile was hovering in the back of his throat, threatening to have words with his tongue. The guttural sounds of protest coming from his lower belly tried to win him over, convince him otherwise, and Killua stupidly continued to eat against his better wishes because _why_.

 

“ _Why the hell am I eating this garbage again?”_

 

Low, deep-voiced laughs that hadn't stopped since he stepped into the dining hall not more then half an hour ago had the young assassin ready to polish his nails in a fresh coat of red if they didn't cease. Cerulean eyes landed on that mundane tub of fatty rolls packaged up in what could only be named _Tonpa,_ who unfortunately picked today of all times to be in here with Killua not more then twenty feet away. Every now and again those highly trained senses picked up on more then one gaze directed towards him, snickering like Killua didn't have enough issues on his plate already.

 

Tonpa and the oh-so-joyous threesome of Amori brothers; his feet-licking lackeys, were targeting him and they thought they could be _sneaky_ about it. On the contrary, they were dead wrong, but Killua was too disinterested to give them the upper hand.

 

“Tch.”

 

Stuffing a huge piece of mystery gunk; it had to be a cross between hash browns, ground beef, corn, cheese, and maybe spinach, into his mouth, Killua chewed as fast as he could, the grinding of his teeth and constant chugging of water in effort to mask the flavor the only thing keeping him preoccupied.

 

If he didn't pick up the pace and wolf this trash down he would be dealing with additional trash to clean up. And that wasn't even what might come out of his mouth if he didn't focus on swallowing both this junk and his vomit down fast enough.

 

After what felt like forever trying to fight the to-eat-or-not-eat war inside of him; and stuff the next glob of strange glowing mashed potatoes he swore had been exposed to radiation gas by its evident transparency, he heard the faint creaking of the squeaky benches being freed from their immense weights and the sound of approaching footsteps headed his way. Killua's sense of dread set off the alarm bells in his mind. right off the bat.

 

“ _Here they come. Crap.”_

 

Guessing correctly, Killua didn't bother to look up at the multiple heavy breathes gathered around him. All four of them started laughing; loudly for the whole hall to hear, and all Killua could do was keep his face hidden underneath his bangs and away from view. He sucked in a breath, as quiet as the rest of those eating had likely become in witness to this unfortunate event. Killua narrowly avoided eye contact, idly pausing in his mechanical eating movements to poke and prod at some stray, pruned five-day old peas with a fork he wished he could pierce through certain _assholes_ for a change. And here he was hoping against hope he hadn't made another bad decision like the earlier mishap with the fatso.

 

“Are you seriously trying to eat this shit?” Tonpa spoke first, grabbing the tray in front of Killua who didn't even budge or blink an eye when his necessary distraction was stolen. “It's all moldy and gross. Oh, wait.” He turned the tray over and the squelchy sound of a cold _splat_ let Killua know those radioactive mashed potatoes were now sticking to his hair and would take hours to scrub clean. “Never mind. I put the shit where it belongs. On top of more shit.”

 

“Doesn't that make him a pile of shit now, brother?” a tiny voice squeaked out; Amori the youngest of the three. He was low-man on the totem pole; as a real _pussy_ of a guy, and always asked if every little thought he had was okay, which didn't bother Killua much. At least the guy might have once considered his actions somewhere in the distant past, unlike the rest of those dumb bloats they called _Hunters_.

 

“Of course it does, dumb ass. He's a huge pile of _shit_ now isn't he, Umori?” Killua recognized the next voice as Imori, second of the trio, talking to the biggest and broadest member of the brothers. He was knowledgeable and very perceptive, but his lack of brain capacity left little to be desired.

 

Umori sighed, his deep, gruff voice easiest to associate with that giant build of his that least had some semblance of muscle; unlike giant tubby _Tonpa_ laughing his head off at the side. “Yes, brothers, he's the world's biggest pile of filth and _shit._ We went over this already or did you forget?”

 

“I remembered, bro! Mostly!” Amori butt in, trying to feign a wise-ass and failing miserably.

 

“Good thing the clean up crew is here today to take out the trash, boys.” Tonpa guffawed, picking up another full tray and started to unwrap the things on it with the assistance of the other three. The irritating sound of wrappers being ripped open and the scratchy pulls of foil tearing was grating to the nerves, but Killua bit his tongue and lip, holding back. No way he would come unglued now. Not here. Not with everyone in sight. Though Tonpa's annoying voice was really tempting Killua to rip out his vocal cords and effectively silence him for all eternity. “I bet the lunch ladies will be so happy to have some help for a change. There's just some trash that is _so_ hard to clean up some days. You just have to burn it real good and it'll stay as ash eventually.”

 

“Like ash and soot indeed.” Imori was picking his teeth and Killua could feel those bits and pieces landing in his hair; twitching beyond irritation, “The perfect stuff they use to bury those icky, disgusting Chimera Ant corpses under. Because, you know, _shit_ belongs with _shit._ ”

 

“Haha! Nice one bro. _Shit_ must stay together! Just like we three brothers stick together-”

 

_Thwack._

 

Umori smacked Amori upside the head, his shrill girly cry truly annoying once you've heard it once. “Idiot, that's a terrible comparison. Don't group us up with that riffraff! We're no where near that low ass level.”

 

“Yeah, dumb ass! Don't clump us with this thing or we'll dump you alongside him!”

 

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Whaaa! Don't dump me, please!” Amori whined, flailing wildly and one his hands actually had the _audacity_ to hit Killua in the back of his skull, sending the teenager lurching forward against the table edge in shock. He couldn't contain the immense quivering in his arms, trembling in their need to slice up something, _anything._ His claws were already out, hidden in his lap, and he fought back every urge to rip open their throats and make them eat their own words until the blood and bile drowned those four plagues upon the Earth to Hell.

 

Miserable excuses for human beings. That's what they were. Killua was glad he would never sink to their league.

 

“Dump you say?” Tonpa snickered after a long pause between opening wrappers and the sudden loud clang of the metal tray in his hands smashing down on top of Killua's head rang throughout the entire hall, effectively rendering the room silent. The squelching _splat_ of unwrapped food squishing into white locks, staining them in rancid colors and odors that would definitely take days to clean now, had Killua's nails scraping against the steel under table. Some people were wincing or flinching away at the familiar ring because they all knew too well where that noise would lead to. The tray slowly slid down the front of his face, crashing off the table top and onto the floor below with a sound as loud as its predecessor. But it was nowhere near as grating as that fat man's voice. “Well, now the foods dumped in the trash, Amori brothers. Let's celebrate because the filth has finally been cleansed.”

 

Tonpa started to clap his hands, brushing off imaginary dirt from his pudgy fat fingers, and all four males joined in unison to laugh and laugh nonstop. Their voices carried all over the heads of those with bulging, fearful eyes and looks of disgust and contempt. Every one of them was condensing of the situation but abstained for their own safety. Even if anybody had a shred of pity for the lone teenager; no one had the guts to do or say anything. Between the vicious bully Tonpa and his colleagues or facing the heartless, blood-thirsty killer; it was an obvious decision to avoid both and save yourself instead while you had the optional escape route.

 

As they went on and on; seemingly endless, their obnoxious laughter infected Killua's mind similar to a virus, eating away at every last inch of his resolve. His blood felt boiling hot and he blamed the dawning flush on his face because of it. There was a gathering cold sweat on his brow and he didn't dare wipe it away and reveal the hungry fangs concealed under the table, starving for flesh. Their flesh. He was digging his nails into splintered metal, grinding his sharp indestructible claws through what was once an indestructible substance, rendering it torn. Bloody droplets glistened on his lips and teeth gnashed for more.

 

But none of that mattered right now because he was going to tear our their ass holes and suffocate them with it if they didn't stop with the cat-call nicknames and insane laughter.

 

“Haha! Faggot!”

 

“Slut!”

 

“Dumb Ass!”

 

“Hahahaha!”

 

“Piece of shit!”

 

“Pathetic little wimp!”

 

“Garbage! Trash!”

 

“Hahahahahaha!”

 

“ _Weak_ -”

 

And then, in that instant, Killua saw red.

 

“ _Stop_.”

 

A voice; confident and strong, broke through his subconsciousness and the crimson color from his vision blurred back into reality; Killua already on his feet and one clawed hand just millimeters from impaling themselves in a shocked man with a flabby neck. If it hadn't been for that powerful grip from a deep bronzed colored hand stopping him, he would be painting his nails in Tonpa's crusty, impure blood. Automatically, on trained habit whenever someone has you in a dangerous position, Killua yanked himself free from the offending lock hold so hard his wrist dislocated with a loud pop.

 

“Tch.” he flinched, cradling his lax hand for a moment to assess the damage. It took him ten seconds to pop it back into place with a bit of effort and the gruesome snap and crackle of the bones returning to their respected positions was stomach-churning. As he nursed the growing bruise around his wrist with care, Killua sneaked a peek at what would-be Tonpa's savior with a glare that could kill; because he really wouldn't regret spilling the asshole's guts and whomever had just spared him would so pay for interrupting.

 

To his surprise, it was none other then Gon Freecs.

 

But this Gon didn't have _his_ eyes. His eyes were something of a different story. A completely different person standing right before them.

 

It was Gon Freecs and yet it wasn't.

 

“Gon-?”

 

“Gon! What do you think you are you doing!” Leorio interrupted Killua's words in a heart beat, the tall suited man came barreling over, shoving the gathering crowd away so he can reach them. Apparently people had been expecting either a fight or a grisly death because they had all willed themselves to get closer; even at the risk of being caught in the fray. Natural human instinct. An insatiable curiosity to watch others battle it out over with their pride at stake.

 

Human beings were truthfully pathetic.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Tonpa glowered since the Freecs boy was unresponsive, his empty and icy stare aimed his way. Leorio's gaze fell upon Killua, as if trying to question the situation with just his eyes alone, but the albino's sapphire orbs were zeroed in on Gon, just like everyone else waiting around them with bated breaths. Unlike Tonpa; who hadn't budged an inch in the face of danger, the Amori brothers had taken an instinctual step back, almost sensing the threatening waves roll off the sun-kissed teenager. He was looking at them with such a detached emotionless expression it was almost terrifyingly similar to the way Killua would look when he killed. They all knew.

 

Somehow, Killua; too, recognized his own facial expression when he saw it right in front of him, tattooed on another person's face, and as badly as he wanted to retreat, he moved forward instead. He could see the dead look in those merciless pupils, ones that would kill if provoked.“What are you doing, idiot?” He hissed, not caring if it was flying over the dude's head, just as long as he got through before he did something worth regretting over. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? I could have tore you to pieces with that stunt you just pulled! You really-”

 

“My name is Gon Freecs.” His tone was absent, unreadable.

 

“Are you seriously telling the fatso your name-”

 

“Gon _Fucktard_ _Feces_.” Tonpa interjected, chuckling madly, “Hahaha! Don't tell me you came to save this shitty faggot?” His large hands gestured at Killua, bristling the snowy boy even further. “Because if you are, you are so-”

 

Gon whipped his fingers out so fast that Killua suspected he may had been the only one to actually witness the second those digits clasped themselves around Tonpa's neck and had him hoisted high in the air. The gasps around them went unheard as the heavy set man let out an inhumanely girlish screech of disapproval, flailing his limbs wildly to break free, but Gon's strength was obvious, even for a youngster. He wouldn't be budging from that grip unless he sacrificed the extremities needed to escape. That selfish bastard wouldn't be so foolish to behead himself, life or death scenario.

 

“Gon! Stop! Don't do this!” shouted Leorio, reaching forward to grab hold of the teen's shoulder but his hand was instantly smacked away by Gon's free one, his eyes wider then saucer plates and stepped back, appearing burnt by the gesture.

 

“L-let me g-go!” Tonpa barely choked out, nails dragging thick red lines down that dark skin, hardly showing in the contrasting colors, “ _F-fucking_ ass wipe! What are you d-doing? Are you i-insane?! Let m-me go!”

 

Gon's soulless eyes were unblinking, honed in on its target, and he didn't move an inch, keeping Tonpa dangling a few feet from the floor with just his one hand and not the least bit winded. “Why were you calling him names?”

 

“Like I'll ever f-fucking tell you _shit!_ Let me go, _freak!”_

 

“Then apologize.”

 

“ _FUCK YOU!!_ ”

 

“Gon, let him go! ” Killua, too, demanded, snatching Gon's hand the second it flew out to beat his own away, and he held the boy in his own vice grip, not giving him release. He squeezed hard in a silent signal to let him know he was _dead_ serious about this. He better listen. “This has nothing to do with you so cut the crap and drop his fat ass already. You're just wasting your time, he isn't going to say shit. So, let him go.”

 

“No. I won't. Not until he says he's sorry. I'll make him apologize.”

 

Stunned. The Zoldyck was stunned for a change. This guy made bullheadedness look like child's play compared to how steeled his ego was. And to find someone who actually resisted Killua's threats (Gon probably had the balls to even throw down Killua's death threats judging by his character) was a shock to his system.

 

Gon would be the death of Killua and they hadn't even begun training in _Nen_ yet.

 

Seemingly, out of nowhere, Killua became acutely aware over the sudden onslaught of an adrenaline rush hitting him. It was pounding fresh in his veins as it accelerated at break neck speed, heart thundering strongly against his rib cage. There was sweat beading his neckline and not just in his hair, sticking his loosely fitted uniform tee to his skin, scratchy and itchy and extremely annoying. He was panting as quietly as he could but the longer this was going on, the harder it was to keep quiet. It felt like he was running a marathon at a standstill, his limbs heavy as lead and his brain becoming mush. There was an unknown stirring in his stomach, a low rumble, and the onset of queasiness was beginning to seep in. But it was bearable, so he would deal.

 

Or so he thought.

 

“Gon-”

 

What happened next transpired so fast that Killua barely had time to process the blur of the world before him or how long it took to get from point A to point B, clutching to the edges of a nearby trash bin and reeling over its side as he vomited out the contents of his earlier attempt-at-lunch. Whoever had braved being so close to the confrontation before had now cleared the way for them, several yards back and out of harms way. The loud retching was almost as painful to hear as it probably was for Killua to force out those gruesome gut-wrenching noises from his throat. Leorio paused in his verge of running over to console the teenager if it hadn't been for Gon's amazing turn around that stopped him in his tracks.

 

“Oh crap!” Gon's honeyed eyes snapped back to their usual color in a blink of an eye when he saw the white blur move past to the garbage can. He dropped Tonpa roughly in his haste to rush over to the other, not caring how hard the bigger man came crashing down to the floor in a broken heap. Even the Amori brothers didn't dare get closer to assist their supposed 'leader', too scared _shitless_ to move a muscle less they be caught in something terrible like Gon's wrath.

 

Carefully and with caution, Gon reached forward and pulled up Killua's messy silver locks still lathered in gross, non-edible substances, and held it back while the other wordlessly continued to hurl. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked worriedly, the slime on his hands doing nothing to deter his efforts to keep the hair from Killua's trajectory of spewing his guts. He even went as far as to start rubbing the guy's back soothingly in small, smooth circles; something Mito-san did for him when he was sick. He figured it was the least he could do to ease the strain.

 

Leorio sighed begrudgingly in the background, lowering the hand he had left hanging in the air a moment ago like it might have done something to stop all that had transpired. It lay defeated at his side when he glanced at their surroundings; the entire dining hall full of people were utterly speechless, unwavering, all except for Tonpa who still hadn't gotten the message clear through his rock-filled skull. “You.” Leorio flatly said, looking down on Tonpa's crumpled, hurting form. The bully was rubbing frantically at his neck like it may be broken, but all there was, was some noticeable bruising and red marks. Gon really had used quite a bit of his strength in that last move, obviously, but the man was lucky Gon hadn't broken anything or Tonpa wouldn't had risen from the floor when he was dropped.

 

“What?” Tonpa wheezed, returning to glare at Leorio, “What the hell are you looking at me for?”

 

“I suggest you leave if you know what's good for you, Tonpa.” The doctor retorted, glancing between Gon busying himself in tending to the sick Killua and at the idiot of an adult who refused to back down even when his ass is handed to him on a silver platter. “Or do I need to call Hanzo up and let him deal with your little transgression today?”

 

“Whatever.” Tonpa actually spat at the lead medic's feet, pushing himself up to stand with shaky hands, “But this isn't the last you'll hear from me, that's _fucking_ sure. This isn't over.” His hot stare narrowed in the triplet brother's direction, causing them all to jump in place, before he marched himself away and out of the building with them soundlessly trailing behind, languid footsteps barely touching the floor in their haste to get out and away from them.

 

“Sheesh. Some people never learn.” Leorio finally allowed himself to sigh, smiling helplessly at the pair next to him, head shaking in defeat.

 

“There, there.” Gon was patting Killua's back lightly, the assassin starting to cough up the last bits of his stomach contents. But the look on his beet red face at the affectionate gesture Gon was giving him throughout the ordeal was clearly written all over his rosy pink cheeks. It was too cute, even in this messed up situation of theirs.

 

But Leorio kept on smiling, just because he couldn't help but be swayed by the two of them. For some reason, he just couldn't help himself.

 

“You guys really are going to drive me insane, aren't you?”

 

He'd blame it on old age if he was old, but he wasn't, so he just blamed it on Kurapika's sappiness rubbing off on him instead.


	10. Our leap of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon and Killua properly meet and introduce themselves while Killua reflects a little on his life and the changes Gon may just bring.
> 
> Hanzo discusses with his teammates about their departure and reaffirms their squadron's tight-knit relationship with each other; happy and satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little overdo on this heh heh. I didn't realize how long this story may wind up being so I hope ya'll are in it for the long run e.e I got lotsa plans in store so I pray I keep up with it lol. Yay for Killua and Gon being together now and I can start playing with the dynamics of their relationship.
> 
> Again, feedback and support is always appreciated. I thank you guys a lot for all your wonderful comments and such. It's what keeps me writing the most.
> 
> Enjoy.

**10**

 

“Ugh. I'm dying.”

 

“You look like you're dying.” Gon said flat out. Killua smacked him as hard as he could for the guys' overwhelming bluntness. He was too straight-forward. Gon deserved every hit Killua gave him.

 

Whining like a big baby, Gon rubbed at the side of his head where he was hit, pouting down at Killua laying on _Gon's_ cot. The way he was stretched out seemed like he owned the whole thing. “Ow! What was that for?”

 

“For being stupid.” Killua didn't even bother to look up at Gon when he spoke; back to him and snuggling into the pillow in a mannerism similar to a cat. If he leaned in close enough he could actually hear this faint purring sound emitting from the pearly haired teenager in immense satisfaction.

 

“Stupidity is not a good enough reason to hit someone, though. You should apologize.” complained Gon, defending his own honest nature even if he wasn't aware of this obvious fact himself. He was just saying what was on his mind. What was so wrong with that?

 

“Don't wanna.” Killua yawned, nuzzling his faintly glowing cheek into the plush cushion, hugging it tightly in both arms, “Can't make me either.”

 

The mischievous grin that split from ear to ear on Gon's face went unnoticed by Killua thanks to his preoccupied attention with getting cozy on another boy's cot.

 

“If you even try to do something I will rip out your tongue and stick it up your nose so far it'll lick your brain.” Killua said the split instant Gon had started reaching out towards him with those grabby hands of his, begging to misbehave and stir up some trouble, if anything to alleviate the massive lull of _boredom_ that had transpired for the past four hours.

 

“Awe. You're no fun.”

 

“That's reality for you.”

 

Gon huffed and whirled the other direction until his back was on the pale-skinned boy, cheeks puffed in an obvious pout. What he himself had said was correct. It was true. Killua apparently had more then just the leftover food to throw up so adding on an extra hour leaning over a toilet seat wasn't very eventful or fun in the least. Even if Gon had willingly chosen to remain at the other teenager's side the entire time holding his hair and rubbing his back in a way that had Killua ruffled like a fur ball just disturbed from its nap; it still left little to pass the time once that was over.

 

Midst Killua's vomiting fit, Kurapika finally found the trio and firmly reprimanded the poor doctor with a dire promise to berate the two boys later when Killua was well enough to get a proper beating. Gon couldn't help but laugh at the way Leorio just toppled over in the presence of the blonde haired Hunter, caving like a wimp but seemingly enjoying it all the while. He could see the bond between them in perfect clarity; resolute and honest. Gon wished for a strong friendship like that someday. He never really had any friends that weren't adults or babies and being secluded on an island left little to offer in the terms of befriending someone who was at least _close_ to his age.

 

But then there was Killua.

 

Shimmering, honeyed orbs fell upon those fluffy white tresses that were incredibly soft to the touch; something he had learned spending a little over two hours holding onto it for the sake of this new stranger. Specks of icky, rancid food remained buried in those strands that Gon would occasionally pick through whenever Killua was feeling compliant enough to let him be touched after all that earlier contact. It was blatantly obvious to Gon he had been uncomfortable throughout the entire ordeal but he never once spoke so out loud, too inclined to keep his gaze trained on the toilet seat and his mouth hovering inches into the empty space less he spew anything unwanted on himself. His hair, face, and even his clothes were already a mess from all the food Tonpa had spilled on him. He probably didn't want to add his own vomit on top of it.

 

But Gon was curious, _extremely_ curious to learn more about this new person named Killua; the person he recognized while asleep. He had heard his name from Leorio and Kurapika himself, bickering in the background about how they should have kept better watch on him, should be moving him to the infirmary to be treated (much to the disapproval of Killua himself), and should be reporting the incident between Tonpa and him to Hanzo. But all that could agree on was to let the matter be dropped for the time being in loo of letting Killua recover on his own and decide. Apparently Killua was as hard-headed as Gon. Stubborn, prideful, and evasive.

 

He sounded a lot like the way Mito-san described Ging to Gon that one time. Perhaps they were similar?

 

This Killua was nothing on how he expected him to be; a head of silver hair against an even lighter skin tone made him appear ethereal, mystical almost. His body was lithe from toe to head, long in comparison to Gon's more bulkier, broader frame. He was taller but only by maybe an inch at best. They were polar opposites in a way; a stark contrast of black versus white really. Gon's onyx black hair against Killua's ivory white. Dark amber eyes battling icy cerulean ones. Gon's muscles were more pronounced, larger while Killua's were lean and willowy but there was no doubt Killua had hidden strength. It radiated off him in overpowering _waves_ ; his _Nen_ made Hanzo, Kurapika, and Leorio's auras look meager and weak in comparison, leaving Gon breathless in its wake.

 

It was cool, intriguing that Gon finally had found someone around his age he could possibly relate to. Gon really, _really_ had to know more.

 

And now that Killua finally cleared his system and left Gon his first opening to talk to him, he had spent the past hour and a half huddled on the bed in a fit of restless sleep instead. He was constantly rolling over on his sides trying to find the most comfortable spot. But the cots were hard, awkward to lay on, and Gon felt a bit of pity the other was having an inner war with himself on how best to _try_ to get some rest. Gon tried to offer Killua some crackers or water, too, whenever he managed to get the boy's attention; but was rejected every time. And if Killua rejected that, well the times he rejected the damp warm cloth or the stomach medicine was multiplied by three times the rejection. It was getting so irritating hearing Killua flat out refuse _anything_ Gon had offered to give him to help him feel better quicker that Gon didn't even hesitate when the words that slipped from his mouth next left the sapphire-eyed stranger gaping at him in total shock.

 

“Ne, Killua, are you a masochist or somebody that likes to suffer because you won't let me do anything to help you feel better no matter how many times I try to give you stuff and it's driving me crazy!”

 

“....”

 

“...”

 

“What.” Gon said, their gazes met and Killua automatically shied away from it, muttering indistinguishable words under his breath. Even Gon's super sensitive hearing couldn't pick it up. “Are you or are you not? I mean, with the way you're acting, it's pretty obvious you-”

 

“Stupid, I'm not a masochist! How do you even know what a masochist IS?!” Killua snapped, Gon's eyes widening in surprise at the scarlet red blush peppering those paler-than-normal cheeks of his when he rounded back to face him. The daggers he was glaring didn't feel so threatening when the guy's embarrassing colored flush screwed him over.

 

“Then why won't you let me take care of you?” pressed Gon anyway, admiring the reaction he got for some reason. It was so _in character_ and he oddly liked it; seeing this blushy Killua looking all frazzled and hung up after a derogatory comment. Mito-san would have scolded him for that. Only, for some reason it felt like it was a rare blessing to be having someone who was apparently labeled as ' stubborn, prideful, and evasive' by his peers looking vulnerable, albeit temporary. He wouldn't dare touch on the other nicknames Killua had received or he might not be able to control himself thereafter.

 

“Because,” the navy-eyed boy sighed, hugging the pillow against his chin and cheek while he refused to meet Gon's stern gaze, “I don't need anybody to take care of me. I can take care of myself. All I did was throw up, anyway. It's no big deal.”

 

“Threw up for over _two_ hours to the point Killua was turning so white that he might have passed out if I hadn't held him up the entire time. You almost fell over lots of times, too, but I'm the one who caught you.” Gon pointed out much to the aggregated twitch of Killua's brow. He'd lost count after the tenth time Gon not-so-subtly had to touch _his_ waist to keep him steady. He did not need a mental reminder.

 

“Who cares about how long I did when it's already done and over with?”

 

“I do!”

 

“Well you're an idiot!” A flick to Gon's brow sent the tanned male reeling back in pain with a squeal, “Stop worrying about complete strangers and think about yourself!”

 

“Owwww! You're mean Killua!” Gon's whining was loud, insistent, borderline _maniacal_ with the way he was rocking side to side in his seat and clutching his forehead dramatically like he incurred a bullet wound there and would bleed to death any moment.

 

Killua rolled his eyes, undisturbed by the Freecs boy's antics and turned his back on him, rolling over and away to do so. “Well, welcome to reality Gon. There's much more meaner people out there so if you think I'm bad, just wait until you meet them.”

 

“But you're not mean, Killua. You're really nice.”

 

Backpedaling from his earlier comment, Killua gawked at Gon's ever-so-serious expression. “What-? You just said I was mean a second ago. Don't go changing your mind so quickly, moron!”

 

The flustered jerky movements of the teenager in front of him made Gon smile his trademark goofy grin, head held lopsided as he stared at the back of pearly locks. “But it's true. Killua seems really nice even if he doesn't want to admit to it. Leorio, Kurapika, and Hanzo are nice, too. I'm glad I met all of you and I hope I'll get to know more about you guys soon, also. _Especially_ Killua.”

 

“I-idiot.” Killua tripped on his own breath, stuttering out while he clawed at the sheets in front of him, “Don't be so honest to someone you hardly even know. It will come back to bite you in the ass someday.”

 

The raven haired one shrugged, “I think I've been bitten in the ass enough to make my own decisions for a change, don't you think?”

 

“Like I'd know or want to know how many times your ass has been bitten.”

 

“Well, I would say seven times if we're counting that one time when I-”

 

“ _WAY_ TOO MUCH INFORMATION!” Killua's voice rose over Gon's, pitch unintentionally higher then natural as he flailed and rolled right off the bed side, landing with a groan on the floor below.

 

Gon climbed onto the mattress and stared down at the defeated lump of unnatural white mumbling quietly and chuckled. “I'm not sure why, but Killua's reactions are pretty funny and kind of cute.”

 

Out of nowhere, a kick flew his way, landing an uppercut to the edge of Gon's jaw and sent him flying backwards with a shocked yelp. He ended up on the opposite side of the bed, sprawled on the floor and blinking stars out of his vision with a pained moan. He sat up quicker then necessary when the dull ache subsided from his rattling bones and clambered right back onto the mattress, laying flat on his stomach to return his focus back down on Killua who still had yet to move. The only thing he had done was move the leg he used to kick him, now laying with his knees propped up on the bedside and eyes closed.

 

“Hey! No fair. That really hurt.”

 

“How-” Killua trailed off; ignoring the protesting statement, as he picked his words deliberately with a lick of his lips, “How are you just-... Who are you?”

 

The question hung in the air for a long moment, Gon unsure what Killua was referring to. When he couldn't quite pin what exactly he was trying to gain from his question, he answered in the easiest way Gon knew best before the steam started to spew out his ears from a possible brain fry. Besides, how else were you supposed to answer it? Gon was Gon. That was all there was to it. “Who am I?” He laughed, finding amusement in the smallest things, “I'm Gon Freecs of course! Who else would I be? Last I checked I was still Gon Freecs anyway.”

 

The honey eyes were blinking rapidly when Killua opened his own bluer pair to return the gesture, gaze softening on his own accord. _Gon Freecs_. It was a name he didn't think; no, he had a gut feeling he wouldn't forget in a very, very long time. “Gon, eh?” He snorted, shaking his head a little, “Gon Freecs is definitely an idiot then.”

 

“That's okay. I don't mind being an idiot.” was his immediate reply, a smile added onto it; blazing like the sun radiating on the back of that spiky head of hair, “But this idiot would like to know who _you_ are. If you don't mind saying.”

 

“Me?” The assassin breathed in deeply at the inquiry. The first time someone actively asked and showed interest in knowing who _he_ really was. His name. “Who am I? I thought you already knew who I was?”

 

“I want to hear you tell me, not somebody else.”

 

“That doesn't make any sense. It's just like repeating yourself and nobody wants to hear that.”

 

“Please?”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, seriously.”

 

“You really want to know...?”

 

Gon nodded and Killua fought the urge to smile along with that sunshiny grin, too addictive not to become helpless in the _life_ ; the light, that he inexplicably felt in this strange teenager's presence.

 

It was warm and it thawed him to his very core; an unearthly, powerful aura washing over him like a tsunami. Relentless _and_ reckless.

 

As he thought about it, Killua's world had always been cold. Full of death and decay, screams of disapproval and disgusted whispers that mocked him; reminded him of his _shame_. His family ties had always been that distant reminder that he lived, _breathed_ , the dark underground life. There was no happy medium there. There were no friendly hugs and late night gatherings where you drank and smoked your nights into carefree bliss before you climbed under the sheets for a fun romp with a total stranger just because you _wanted_ to feel good for once. The smells of fresh sun rays and clean, human life didn't exist down below. Instead, you were surrounded by booze, drugs, and sex; the smell reeking off grisly bodies who hadn't seen a shower in days, too busy selling the meat off their bones for the wolves to dig into just to have a scrap of substance to live from for the day. Money came cheap because the people themselves sold their souls for cheaper.

 

Murder and rape, violence and harassment; the list went on. Killua had seen it all.

 

While he was on the subject of _'All the shit I had ripped from my childhood',_ Killua never did have the chance to attend a real school. He never got the chance to piss off your teachers and scramble to finish your homework the last five minutes before class time. He never got to even make a single _friend_ remotely close to his age; so his social life was next to nigh unless it involved your victim _targets_ and close associates or the contractors for your kill. The only contacts on his cell phone were his family members and all the numbers he was too lazy to delete from those who hired him.

 

He never got to earn his drivers license legally (the silly faces on all his counterfeits were still funny though) or have your parents make sure you didn't slam on the breaks too hard and fly into the windshield after the fifth time at trying because you forgot your seat belt _again_. No, his hack-job of a brother procured him a totally legit, totally illegal, believable copy of a drivers license. And Killua still ran into a sign post now and again.

  


When he was sore and aching from a hard days work (remember it's only ' _training'_ )and he could barely even pull himself into bed, nobody would be there to help tuck him in. As a child he put all the band-aids on himself, wrapped his injuries and dressed his wounds, and made up night time stories to help him sleep and forget the monsters _and_ all the people out to kill him that may be lurking under his bed. Sometimes he still had to hum himself a tune just to keep his eyes firmly shut in the middle of the night.

 

Hell, he didn't even get the _sex_ talk from anyone! By the time sex was even mentioned he had long since discovered it thanks to dear fat brother _Miluki_ and his endless supply of anime porn and hentai shit. And nobody even cared that he knew. Nobody bothered to get mad like most parents did and ground him for months in restriction. Actually, when they found out; the things he could do now knowing it were impossibly difficult. And they still made him do them anyway.

 

If he had buddies; like most _ordinary_ everyday people had, to hang out at night with playing cards and swapping dramatic rumors of who was dating who or which person fucked who because that's pretty much all your life consisted of; well he would have been plenty satisfied. The idea of trash talking others to feel better about yourself sounded better then pondering all the multiple ways you could maim and murder someone, especially an easy target you couldn't bother to even half-ass a kill from.

 

He didn't even get to talk about or hit on any cute girls because you just _had_ to date her, at least once. Because, you know, guys have to score. It's a one up on their manly egos. Killua wondered how well it would pass to talk about how many higher-ups and rich, greasy snobs he's killed and if it'd earn him any brownie points on the whole 'manly ego' scale.

 

It was probably worth a point at best.

 

But none of that had ever existed in Killua Zoldyck's cold, bottomless pit and excuse for a so-called 'life'. It was filled with nothing but the blood and dusty bones of the people he's killed and the painted red fingernails crusting, dried and moldy from the guts he's spilled. The muscles he's torn. The limbs and organs he's broken. His world had been nothing but training, lectures, _torture;_ preparing himself mentally and physically to slaughter thousands of lives with just his pinky no less. He had been reprimanded every step of the way, crawling through the darkness on his hands and knees with whips and chains and angry words beating him every which way with no point of relief, poison puddling behind his clenched lips and forced down his throat even if he choked to breathe the entire time. Choked for air past the surging burns and electrical stings; his drug of choice in a realm of pain, ghosting on his footsteps.

 

No friends, no comrades, nobody whatsoever remotely close to him he could call his own existed in Killua's world. Nothing to share his name with, share his woes and concerns. Nobody he could trust with his deepest fears and his greatest secrets.

 

Nobody had yet to be there to hold his hand or his heart when the weight alone was too much for him to bear and everything precious was slipping out of his fingers; a burden.

 

“I-” he said, throat dry and chest heavy, feeling parched, and rubbed the back of his cheek with his wrist. “I am..”

 

Killua glanced up, blue eyes widening at the warm light that seemed to illuminate around Gon's form like a halo, bathing him in an earthly warm glow. His body looked like it was on fire, a painted image of a growing young man and the picture of innocence and natural human curiosity. Gon was one of those everyday people, living in the now, the present; without the haunting, deceitful whispers tugging on him in the background. He was shining; like an angel, and Killua quickly averted his eyes and squinted, Gon Freecs too bright for him to stare at too long.

 

_He's light._

 

_And I'm.._

 

The Zoldyck himself noticed the shadows dancing on his lap, the darkness that extruded from his body. Compared to Gon he was but a mere plot of blackness on a pure white frame. Just a shadowy, infectious speck that if provoked, spread across a surface until it was all-consumed; inflamed. A tanned hand dropped into view and Killua swallowed suddenly, watching the fingers offered to him for a handshake. He took one last look up, noticed Gon's radiant smile, and he couldn't help but feel the twitch of his own lips go up in accordance. It really was too hard to resist.

 

_I'm dark._

 

A sickly-pale hand slid into molten bronze, a smile ever present on the dank, lonely soul basking in the light that was a pure soul; content to remain in the darkness a little longer if it meant witnessing such a sight. Just once, in his small, twisted up lifetime in Hell.

 

“I'm Killua Zoldyck.”

* * *

 

“Is everything packed and ready to go for tomorrow?”

 

Hanzo was leaning against the nearby building wall that lead into the mess hall, brow raised in earnest at the small handful of people gathered around him. Their casual meeting places were always random; never predetermined. Hanzo liked to be unpredictable, much to the nerve of everyone else.

 

“It's in the process of being finished, sir.” Pokkle responded, clip board at hand. Kurapika was right next to him alongside a few other stray hunters, faces etched with attentive focus.

 

“We'll finish packing away the last of the supplies and extra beds, weapons, and food supplies by the end of closing hour tonight.” a female voice spoke up next; Ponzu, who wore a matching beanie like Pokkle, her turquoise eyes and similar hair a mighty contradiction against her bright yellow hat. “Everything else has already been placed in its proper spots, ready to be stored, sir.”

 

Hanzo nodded and Kurapika cleared his throat, gray eyes scanning his own paperwork as well. “The boats are scheduled to arrive by sunrise tomorrow and by the time we're finished stowing away the last of our things we should be able to head in-route to the Padokia Providence before dark hits, if all goes according to plans.” His smirk twitched, giggling a little under his breath. “Sir.” He added, teasingly, spotting the agitated twitch of their leader's eyebrows in response.

 

“How many times do I have to repeat myself in telling you guys not to call me 'Sir' before you finally stop calling me that.”

 

“Approximately 672 times by my calculations, sir.” Pokkle read from his notes, in all seriousness. Apparently he was oblivious to the snickers in the background from the other soldiers trying their damned hardest not to laugh because the stern gaze on that pointed man's face he was giving Hanzo was priceless.

 

There was a pause, then.

 

“Now it would be 673.” laughed Kurapika first, busting out into a fit of giggles that the remaining Hunters all followed suit, except Pokkle. He appeared completely baffled at the sudden comical atmosphere that had settled in, shooting glances from Ponzu (who grinned even more like she knew he was missing the hidden joke) to Kurapika and finally Hanzo who's bald head was actually starting to smoke furiously.

 

“That's not funny Kurapika!” he barked, uselessly, everyone laughing harder in retaliation. “Stop calling me _SIR!_ You know how it drives me crazy!”

 

“We can't help it, Hanzo. Not when it annoys you like this.” Ponzu's girlish voice squeaked, Pokkle tugging on her collar sleeve questionably the entire time.

 

“Did I miss the joke or something?”

 

“Pokkle. If you'd lighten up for a change maybe you wouldn't miss so much.”

 

“But- oh come on! It's not my fault! Ponzu!!”

 

“Heehee!”

 

“Haha.” Kurapika slowly began to calm with the subsiding guffaws around him, “Hanzo. You know we're only joking with you. You're our commander, so of course we are supposed to at least _try_ to treat you like one now and again. The Hunter Association would flip if they saw us all acting so friendly with you because you insist we treat you as one.”

 

“Yeah. I know.” grumbled their ninja leader, sagging in defeat. Once the rest of the Hunters gathered around quieted down, he rose to his full height once more and placed on his best face and smiled. “Okay! Fine. Call me whatever you want, just as long as you make sure you get everything prepared for tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Aye, aye, _sir!_ ”

 

Even Hanzo couldn't control the twitch of his brow or the bemused chuckles of his peers. Even in the face of war, their leader ceased to carry the sun on his shoulders; his personality bright like luminescence. Just another addictive light to gravitate towards in a realm that was black and ugly from war.

 

“Hanzo.” interrupted a voice, breaking the lighthearted ambiance. It was a gruff, larger man; similar to Tonpa only taller, with a small pony-tail fastened high on his rich blonde head, sides shaven clean off. He had a pronounced forehead, brow creased with beady, slanted eyes. His wrestler's body was unmatched in terms of physical strength; ranked in the top five on their team, even with his massive girth and weight. “Are the rumors true that we'll be traveling alongside the other **Silver Squadron**? You were very vague at the last meeting on whether or not we'd actually be sharing quarters with them on our travel to Padokia.”

 

Hanzo shared knowing glances with Kurapika; eyes briefly locking, before he nodded with a resolute sigh. He had tried to bypass the subject until the last given moment in time, only having shared the information with a few chosen individuals. But by the looks of it, the inevitable was bound to happen. When at war, sacrifices always had to be made; even if it meant traveling with those _spoiled_ maniacal psychopaths of **Silver Squadron 1** because the Association said it'd be 'Tactical and strategic when traveling through Chimera Ant territory so get friendly with your fellow hunters because you'll be fighting alongside them for the next coming weeks.'

 

Figures. Netero that cheeky ass.

 

“Yes, Todo, we are. I know I've been avoiding it at all costs already, but unfortunately we don't get a choice in the matter this time around. We'll be splitting into groups and traveling in mixed pairs with them from the boat ride all the way to the blimps.” A group simultaneous moan of dismay pierced the air, Hanzo trying hard to grimace at the mere idea of getting cozy with the dreaded opposing crew in such a state, but the circumstances had been decided and they didn't have a choice. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I hate the idea too, but we'll just have to stick with it for only a little while.”

 

“Great. Another run in with the _best_ pedophile _clown_ out there _._ And here I thought the Hunter exams would be the last time we ever saw him.” Pokkle whined, forehead thudding on his clip board.

 

“Didn't they promote him, too?” came Ponzu, appearing more disturbed then normal, troubled even. “I thought Captain Satotz and the others agree to kick him out.”

 

“Yes, they promoted him, and no, they didn't revoke him from the squad, sadly. He's a superb fighter and _Nen_ -user. And since he can go out on the battlefield and slaughter hundreds of Ants on his own, well, they figured it'd be best just to deal with his behavior for the sake of the war.”

 

“Sounds like the same scenario we're in with the _Zoldyck_ kid.” grumbled another random hunter in the back of the group, a few others sharing their disgust with low, uncouth whispers.

 

“Hey,” Kurapika hissed, shooting the background commentators a haughty glare, the five people shocked ram-rod in place at the abrupt defensive change in demeanor the Kurta took, “Don't compare Killua to that _perverted_ freak. At least he has the guts to defend your sorry rear ends when the Chimera Ants are overpowering you on the battlefield, all the while you're all crying for your mommies to save you. And it's all because you're too lazy to train your _Nen_ and actually fight your own battle for a change instead of letting a mere _teenager_ do the job for you. That clown would have been more then happy to watch you people be torn apart by the Ants and wait until they're done slowly devouring every last scrap of meat off your bones, before he'd even consider on killing them.”

 

Hanzo was whistling in the foreground, both eyebrows perked high on his brow, when Pokkle snorted against the back of his hand; Ponzu giggling beside him. “Burn.”

 

“He has a point though.” Their bald leader butt in, hand raised for attention, “We should appreciate every member of our squad, no matter who they are, what their background history is, or any other things that would otherwise deter us from associating ourselves with them. I thought that was one of the first things I've been trying to ingrain into you all since we were first formed? We must-”

 

“-Must always respect and accept our fellow Hunters and squad members like we would one of our family. We are all fighting this war together and someday that one person you might dislike may be saving your pitiful ass, so make sure to always remain appreciative of each other and show no negativity. We're all equals here in **Silver Squadron 2,** no exceptions.” recited the man who had rudely commented about Killua, his head bowed in defeat alongside the others who had shared his words aloud. “Yeah, we remember. We're sorry, sir.”

 

Hanzo was nodding along the whole time until he paused, looking suspicious, “Yep, yep- Wait. Did it actually go exactly like that or...?”

 

“No.” a woman hunter giggled on the side, “But it's close enough to what you said.”

 

“Okay. Then all of what you said, right back in your face!”

 

The howl of merriment from his fellow recruits gave Hanzo the biggest grin he could muster, chuckling along with the relaxation of the stiff air, soothing; a comfortable feel in their heavy hearts.

 

“And that will be all for today, recruits! You're dismissed!”

 

“Aye, aye, _SIR!_ ”

 

“STOP CALLING ME SIR!!!”

 

The laughs that echoed around the campsite was like a delicious addition of spice on an already delicious, appetizing atmosphere.

 

Perfect.


	11. Wherever you go, I Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika and Leorio discuss plans to keep Gon safely out of the Hunter Association's clutches.
> 
> Gon reminisces over his final moments on Whale Island and Killua provides emotional support in uncanny ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet. A little OOCish but all well. I really liked some parts of it and even some dialogue I kept true to the original show. ME SO PROUD.
> 
> Anyway, I'm finally getting further into my original intended plot and it only took me, what, 11 chapters to do so? Oh gosh I'm fearing how long this might even be. Again, I thank everyone who still gives me support in the smallest ways. I appreciate it.
> 
> Enjoy.

**11**

 

“Is it me, Kurapika, or have you and I become babysitters? Because I didn't sign up to babysit a pair of _kids_. I signed up to fight in a stinking war. Not to raise a pair of overgrown brats! This is forced adult labor, I tell you! _FORCED! ADULT SLAVERY!_ NOW GET OFF THIS BED RIGHT NOW, KILLUA, OR I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU.”

 

Leorio was standing on the spare cot remaining in the infirmary (which was pretty much empty really), fighting with Killua to get him off the bed. But he just wouldn't budge and already it had been half an hour of useless struggle with no sign of quit.

 

All the high-pitched, shrill screaming and yelling between them was creating cracks in the windows and both Kurapika and Gon could only stare, absolutely silent, as they watched the fight unfold in front of them.

 

“Hell no!!! Let go of me you crazy grandpa! YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME YOUR OLD COOTIES! LET. GO.”

 

Leorio had a hold of Killua's legs and was pulling with all his strength; which was surprisingly a lot in comparison to most judging how big his biceps were busting from the strain, and Killua's grip firmly locked itself on the bed posts in a death vice. There was a noteworthy line of sweat plastering Leorio's dress-shirt to his chest, the white now see-through and showing all those ugly chest hairs he'd missed when shaving and Kurapika's repulsed gagging had just finally subsided, too.

 

Killua even had beads of sweat dotting his brow, earnestly putting in a good effort to keep his hold on the posts. Gon had began with rooting for Killua's end when they first started arguing over the cot needing to be placed away for their morning travel; much to the snowy teen's testament and desire for another hour of sleep. They all learned that apparently the Zoldyck was a lengthy sleeper; not so much as heavy as he was light, but enjoyed sleeping in for as long as necessary. Early mornings were typically not his friend and if he didn't get a good night's rest he was an utter grouch the next day.

 

Gon and Kurapika had long since given up on warring with the porcelain-skinned teenager but Leorio just wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

 

Actually, he wouldn't take anything for an answer that didn't meet his 'standards' which pretty much meant; unless he answered it himself, kiss your hope goodbye for winning this argument.

 

Unless you had Kurapika's _Nen_ chains. That was a whole other story.

 

“Let. GO! We're leaving in three hours and they need this bed NOW! You're done sleeping. Get up! Rise and shine like us normal people and STOP SLEEPING IN!”

 

“ _Never._ ” Killua hissed on his breath, kicking out his legs against the warring grip; Leorio's balance wobbly but maintaining. “I'll never let go so give up already and let me sleep!”

 

“Oh, that is so it-”

 

Leorio's _Nen_ -encased hand was rising in the air; inches from pummeling a countering swing of Killua's own doing, when Gon's shout bounced off the walls so strong his voice shook the very fabric of the remaining listener's skull with an uncomfortable ache.

 

“HEY KILLUA. I'M BORED. LET'S DO SOMETHING. RIGHT NOW. COME ON.”

 

Killua caught Leorio's _Nen-_ fist mid-way with adept ease; the doctor flapping his gums uselessly while the assassin beamed eagerly in response, “Hell shittin' yes! Anything to get out of this stuffy-ass place. Thought you'd never ask!” In one easy motion, he pulled his legs from Leorio's failing weak grip, rolled over and swung off the bed to scamper after Gon who instantly took to a run when given the go. The two boys scurried away and out the door faster then Leorio could even set his hand back down from where Killua had left it.

 

“...did they just.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“...and they actually.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“...seriously.”

 

“Yes, Leorio. Seriously.”

 

Grunting as he was caught between feeling relieved they were gone or defeated for succumbing to an early loss, Leorio dropped limp to the bed and laid himself across it, a hot sigh breathed against the pillow. “It hasn't even been a day with them together and they're already driving me crazy. I don't know how much longer I can take this.”

 

“It hasn't been that bad, Leorio. You're over exaggerating again.”

 

“I am not!”

 

Kurapika giggled, settling down in the last remaining chair beside the last remaining cot, patting his friend's back gently for reassurance. “Don't you remember when we were young like that? And how hectic it was? Just think of it like seeing ourselves like teenagers again. It can't be that hard.”

 

“Hey!” Leorio whined, swatting at his blonde companion with the least amount of effort possible which came out as a more pathetic waving then anything, “We're not that old. Come on, Kurapika, please don't tell me you think we're _that old!_ You can't have sunk that low already, can you?”

 

“We're not that old, Leorio. Get a grip on yourself. 24 is still young and barely into adulthood. ” grumbled the blonde and he bopped the darker haired man on the head.

 

“Betrayal, I say, _the ultimate betrayal!_ How could you betray me, Kurapika? I thought you were my friend!”

 

“Fine. Be that way you old cook.”

 

Leorio flung himself desperately at the retreating Kurta and whined as much as an out-grown spoiled child would at their overbearing parents. His blunt nails were clawing pathetically at Kurapika trousers. The expression the medic hunter had was anything but funny; twisted up and trembling bottom lip a dead giveaway that he was the least bit of an adult and morose a child stuck in an older body.

 

“Kurapikaaaaaa.. Come on. Give me some slack. I was only joking, man.” He pleaded, settling at the calm, soft look the blonde gave him in return.

 

“I know, I know. So was I. You should really learn to be a better judge of character, Leorio.”

 

“A better judge of character?” Leorio's brow raised inquisitively, “How is that relevant to any of this?”

 

“If you were a better judge of character, you'd be able to take a joke more seriously, knowing the person well enough to decipher when they were kidding and when they were being honest.”

 

“..I don't get it.”

 

“My point exactly.” puffed Kurapika, brushing away Leorio's hand from his trousers. Placing his wrists on his waist, he turned to the man and glowered; Leorio may have just ascended into adulthood but he certainly lacked the finesse to carry himself like one. He had some dignity, sure, but he had a terrible way of showing it sometimes.

 

Leorio's primary concern had always been for the ill and needy, not much on his own personal status. Unless it pertained to impressing women or flirting; well, he might as well just be as sloppy as a teenager.

 

“..Kurapika.” the grave undertone in the doctor's voice was subtle, quiet after five minutes of silence. But the seriousness was there, ever prevalent.“I'm really worried about them.”

 

Dropping his gaze, Kurapika helplessly looked down at the floor; the same wave of concern nagging him in the darker corners of his consciousness. “Yeah, I feel the same way.”

 

“The other squadron is going to flip when they find out about Gon and there's no way we can avoid it when we're traveling on the same boats and vehicles as them.”

 

“Hanzo was worried about that, too, actually.” Kurapika muttered, “He doesn't want to report Gon to the association because they'd steal him away to be placed on the front lines as soon as they realize he knows _Nen_. Just as Killua and I predicted.”

 

“No kidding. This time around there won't be any hiding him from the **Silver Squadron** either. You know how they are. Captain Satotz might be a lenient man, but the one I'm most worried about is-”

 

“Hisoka.” They breathed together in unison, both sharing the same dismayed look.

 

“That pedophile will be all over him as soon as Gon even steps foot on the boat. That dude has an uncanny nose that just whiffs out any kid from miles away. It's so _creepy._ He can barely even keep his boner down around Killua anymore the last time we saw him. How can a person like him be so obviously _perverted_ is beyond me. And over mere children! Aren't they supposed to arrest guys like that? How does the association even tolerate that kind of behavior? Argh! It makes me SICK!” Leorio was growing more pale by the second, a deathly stark white; and was pulling on his already short brunette hair in an effort to keep his steadily dying cool.

 

“Yeah. I remember the first time Hisoka crossed paths with Killua. I'm still healing from the scars of that mental visual and I can't even imagine the trauma Killua went through witnessing such a lewd sight. I didn't think it was possible for a pair of pants to bulge _that_ big..” Kurapika grimaced himself, swaying slightly in spot. He wasn't fairing much better from remembering.

 

“But we won't be able to avoid it. He's bound to have a run in with Hisoka. And that guy is the least of our problems. The rest of the group ain't much better except for the few good ones left like your friend Senritsu and all that.”

 

“Yeah.” Kurapika smiled just a tad at that, but it still wasn't much when posed with the grim situation they were in, “What are we going to do then? If Hisoka finds him he probably will report Gon right away. And then we'll never be able to secure him proper training on his _Nen._ ”

 

“Or Hisoka could take a liking to him and _not_ tell. Then he wouldn't want to report Gon in favor of keeping him around. And he'd even make an effort to keep others away that threaten Gon's standing in the face of the Association, too.” Leorio pointed out the idea, though his face detested otherwise at the thought.

 

“Like he did with Killua?”

 

“Yeah. That sicko couldn't stop fawning over him the entire time. But he never said anything about Killua to anybody, not even with that last incident. Remember how frantic we were that he was going to say something and force Killua to be kicked out? But, instead, he ended up saying that he wouldn't for the sake of keeping another 'unripened' fruit or some shit like around longer so he could do whatever it is he planned to do with him later.”

 

Kurapika was rubbing his chin, thinking. “Right. You're right!” He snapped his fingers, brightening. “Hisoka wouldn't dare do anything to endanger or threaten the possibility of one of his _sick_ interests getting into trouble without his doing. It's the same thing as during our first Hunter exam. Which means, all we have to do is see if Hisoka will take interest in Gon and thus secure him a safe spot for the time being in our squad.”

 

There was a pause as dawning realization hit, then.

 

“..are we seriously trying to hook up a pedophile with a teenage boy for the sake of keeping him out of trouble with the Association.”

 

“..apparently so.”

 

“..especially under the guise that it might actually really work.”

 

“..apparently so.”

 

“..and by allowing this pervert to meet this boy and become interested in him, we'll be able to continue teaching him _Nen_ until he's ready to join the war effort with the rest of us; even knowing the risks of having some crazy adult stalk him and having ginormous boners about him to boot.”

 

“..apparently so.”

 

“Is that seriously all you can say, Leorio?”

 

“Apparently so-”

 

_SMACK._

 

“OW _SHIT_. KURAPIKA!” Leorio cried out, hugging both his knees with a whimper as he doubled over on the bed. “Did you actually have to hit my knees?!”

 

“Yeah, I did.” Kurapika scowled, setting down the empty metal tray back to its rightful spot atop the night stand. Leorio would sure be feeling that hit by tomorrow morning.

 

“You're meaner then Hisoka.” Leorio complained, glaring at the golden head of hair with as much effort as he put into thinking. Not much.

 

“Well, either way, we'll be encountering him at some point. Let's keep it a secret between us okay? This doesn't go to any of our other squad members, not even Hanzo.”

 

“Don't tell anyone we're trying to set up a teenage boy with a lecherous pedophile?”

 

“Don't tell anyone we're trying to set up a teenage boy with a lecherous pedophile.”

 

“We're sick individuals, aren't we?”

 

“Apparently so.”

 

“Hey, no fair Kurapika, you just said-!”

 

_WHACK._

 

* * *

 

 

“Gon, hey, wait up!”

 

For a guy who grew up on a secluded island in the middle of nowhere, Gon had the stamina to wear even the battle-ready city-orientated assassin out. He was by no means fast; Killua could out run him with just one leg and still be quicker, but Gon's endurance was a noteworthy feat. And as irksome as it was to someone who was trained to be quick and stealthy; not run endlessly to _god knows where,_ Killua at least gave the guy with the ridiculous hairstyle some credit. An hour in and the paler boy figured they had at least traversed several miles already and then some. His suspicions were correct; Whale Island was mostly forest based. Wilderness as far as the eye can see and very little civilization hidden within it. Trees, trees, and _more_ stinking trees.

 

If Killua had to spend five more minutes looking at nothing but trees he swore he'd burst into flames and take the plantation down with him.

 

“Slow down, Gon. Where are we going?!” Killua tried again when his first cry went unanswered, Gon apparently too focused on finding _wherever_ it is that he wanted to take him. His determination was unflappable. He had been ignoring him since they left, promising Killua would 'enjoy the surprise' with utmost gusto.

 

And, well, Killua figured an hour long wait was enough to see some 'surprise'. He really was not one for patience.

 

“Gon.” A hiss. More rustle of leaves crunched under their foot falls.

 

“Gon!”

 

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

 

“Hey, Gon!”

 

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

 

“ _Fuck_ , GON!”

 

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

 

“ _GON, I SWEAR I WILL HURT YOU-_ ”

 

“We're here!”

 

Skidding to a stop, just right beside the adolescent boy in question; Killua barely caught himself before he slid off the cliff Gon had led him to. The mass overlooked the entire port side; Killua guessed this was the west end judging by the direction of the sun, and all sorts of small buildings and homes dotted the horizon as far as the eye can see before eventually blending into the ocean that swallowed up the rest of their spectacular view. That is; it would have been spectacular if he had visited it _prior_ to the Chimera Ants invading the island, because the place was in complete shambles. It was like a scar cut upon the land; bloody, barren, and gray contrasting against a bright blue sea and sky. Killua could just make out most of the structures damaged and finally simmering from what had to have been an enormous fire. The surrounding forestry was burnt to a crisp that not even the stick carcasses remained, all the way up until the mouth of the cliff stopped its path trajectory.

 

The Zoldyck grimaced at yet another picture-perfect portrait of death, painted on a purely innocent canvas long before its fated end. It really had been too soon.

 

“Gon.” Killua murmured, glancing the others way. Surprisingly, Gon's face was a mask of complete calmness, not the least bit darkened by any fowl or negative emotions as he witnessed the remains of what was his home. “Are you okay?”

 

“Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?” Gon answered immediately, a smile creeping up his lips with his head tilted to the side questionably.

 

“I- Your place- I mean,” Killua tried, stumbling on his own words before he sighed and gazed back out into the open expanse before them, a sad frown against Gon's careful smile, “Your home. It's gone. It must be hard to swallow seeing it now.”

 

Gon shook his head, eyes blinking shut a moment. “Not really, honestly. As long as Whale Island is still in one piece, then maybe someday it'll be rebuilt and become inhabited by people again. Even though it might not happen for a very long time, it's still something to look forward to after the war ends.”

 

Killua fought very hard not to question Gon further; interrogate him even. Ask him so many things, like; _how can you still be smiling when your family is dead?_ Or, _how can you be so positive when hundreds of people you knew and grew up with are now gone? Your home has been completely destroyed and you're so happy like it doesn't even bother you! Just how do you do it?_ Killua would ramble endlessly, one question after another, all the while picking away at Gon for every shred of thing he felt. Because really; how can someone like him, someone so _innocent_ and carefree, remain so upbeat and positive at a crucial time like this?

 

War had just ripped away everything Gon had known and grew up with in one moment.

 

How the hell could he still even be _sane_? Anyone even?

 

Killua was truly confused for once. And Gon was the single soul individual to cause this confusion.

 

“Is this what you wanted to show me, then?” It took him a moment, but Killua eventually asked, voice kept quiet for good measure. If Gon was hiding his real hurt over his new reality, well, he didn't want to go about making it worse.

 

“No, actually, we still have a little ways to go before we get to where I want to show you.” said Gon, his smile never faltering. “If you aren't opposed, it's about another three miles away. Can Killua keep running that long?”

 

An irritated twitch of Killua's brow was all confirmation Gon needed to start laughing and Killua's cheeks to bloom a deep cherry red. “Of course I can keep running, idiot!” Right away, the Freecs teenager jumped off the edge and began sliding down the charred slope of the cliff, his laughter echoing into the empty surroundings clear as day. Killua was hot on his tail; trying to both sprint and skip forward behind Gon without falling to the ground below, yelling all the while, “Hey, get back here! What the hell are you laughing at! Gon! Gon, stop!”

 

“Hahaha. You're funny, Killua! If I stop now, I'll fall.”

 

“Then slow down!”

 

“If I did that, then you'd punch me. Haha!”

 

“Damn right I will, Gon, so fall already so I can hit you!”

 

“Hahaha! No way!”

 

“Gon!”

 

“Kil-lu-aaa!~”

 

Gon was first to reach the bottom, knee-high boots thudding to the ashy wasteland below as he took off at a dead run ahead. Killua was only a few feet behind him, jumping down the last stretch from his impeding impatience, and started jogging after Gon through what was left of a big, luscious forest. Even the stumps and most of the roots were singed, black and ugly clones of their former selves. The disgusting metallic tang in Killua's mouth was a far cry from the taste of destruction around them, a bleak reminder of what the Chimera Ants were really capable of.

 

Killua had seen worse in his lifetime, but somehow the damage that had been done to Whale Island really hit home.

 

Together in silence, Gon and Killua sped across the dirty plains leading to the lasting impressions of a used-to-be bustling busy fisherman's wharf. They slowed to a brisk walk once gray dust turned to scalded gravel and rock, the pavement the only thing that was hardly touched in the chaos of flames. Gon's heavy footwear cracked and creaked on broken, splintered pieces of wood that he didn't bother avoiding as he walked through the leftovers still partially intact. Killua did his best to amble around everything, the tap of his own shoes falling on deaf ears. There were many charred corpses strung about, all too badly burnt to make out who was who. The place just screamed of the unsung deceased.

 

“This place,” Gon coughed, hand waving some dust lifting from a door swinging on broken hinges that had yet to give from its still-standing steel supports, “Used to be the second most populated and busiest port on Whale Island. When I was little, every morning after breakfast I would come down here and talk to the fishermen who were hanging out around the trader's post and listen to all the cool stories they had to tell me. They showed me some neat techniques on how to catch certain kinds of fish and even told me about what time of year was best to catch what. I learned a lot from them growing up.”

 

As Killua trailed behind Gon, he almost; _almost_ , swore to himself he could see the ghosts of those fishermen and sailors, chatting and talking exactly as Gon had told him. They were laughing as they all sat around each other, swapping their tales with huge grins on their faces, beers and mugs at hand. Their laughs echoed in his ears, fading out the further away he got. The cheery atmosphere was haunting.

 

They passed by the small row of buildings and started walking along the destroyed pieces of a long, stretched out wooden dock. Just off the coast of the sandy beach leading out to the ocean lay the wreckage of so many boats, some strong and sturdy that only parts of their structures were still intact; the rest had nothing to speak of.

 

“Around here, by the dock, a lot of of women who were waiting for their husbands to return would always be really kind to me when I came down to see them. I would help them out with small chores, like carrying the loads their husbands brought back from their boats and they would always give me treats as a reward. Apples were one of the things I got a lot of, because they all swear that an apple a day would keep the doctor away. Or so Mito-san ingrained into my head when I was really little.”

 

Killua glanced side to side, watching the apparitions of these young women moving back and forth, pecking kisses to their husbands as they assisted in carting out the day's shipments from the big, lavished wooden boats pulled up to the harbor, filled to the brim. All the people before him wore fresh, joyful smiles on their faces and they, too, were laughing in his head with not a care in the world as they went about their daily lives in peace.

 

Something small and light tapped on Killua's boot mid-step, pulling his sapphire eyes down at the magical apple that appeared there, and he bent down to retrieve it. Surprisingly, it was solid in his hands unlike the figurative ghostly bodies of the deceased, so it wasn't just a figment of his imagination. He wiped off the thick layer of dirt and grime caking it to reveal the soft reddened flesh underneath. Its shine was the least bit dulled, untouched with a sense of unspoken purity that illuminated a halo around the apple's top, giving it an earthly glow. Killua looked back up to see Gon standing still, staring out into the ocean, and he gently tapped the apple against the boy's arm with a tiny, reassuringly smile.

 

Gon turned, spotting the apple and grinned broadly as they shared a silent message between them. He took the offered apple and tossed it up and down, never dropping that hopeful expression he wore, before he began walking again; now with an apple at hand.

 

“I didn't actually spend that much time down here where the people were as much as everyone thought. I did. As lively as it was, there were only a few other people close to around my age that I could hang out with and they usually were too busy with their families to play with me. Which meant I was pretty much alone most of the time, doing my own thing.”

 

“But, what about your Aunt or your parents-?” Killua started only to stop when Gon himself had paused in front of the ruins of a small infrastructure. Judging by the dark mahogany wood and many scattered chunks of what appeared to be bar stools and tables; Killua guessed it may had been a bar or tavern of some sort. There were broken glass shards everywhere, a lot of them. He figured they were the alcoholic beverages and assortment of other drinks. The sign labeled 'Bar' not too far from the doorway confirmed his suspicions and he knelt down to inspect it.

 

It was still in one piece, broken in half and partially charred but discernible none the less. Somehow had put a lot of time and effort to carve this; Killua's fingers traced along the jutted curves and lines of expert craftsmanship from a great wood carver.

 

The heel of Gon's boots crunched on top of the weight of splintering lumber as he began to climb into the last vestiges of the bar, treading carefully the more he got towards where Killua assumed was the counter tops. Gon's tone of voice remained quiet, soft the entire time; cautious like his foot falls. “This is Aunt Mito's bar. Her and Oba-chan ran it as a way to earn income in their old age. They also had a small grocery store, too, but it wasn't as popular as the bar.”

 

“Fishermen and their bars.” Killua laughed. No surprise there.

 

“All kinds of travelers came here on their way passing through the island. People from all over would come to the bar at some point and there were always a lot of regular customers you'd see every night. I would help Aunt Mito occasionally when it wasn't as crowded, but I mostly stayed with Abe in the grocery store since I wasn't old enough to drink yet. That's where I met a lot of neat people, too, like Banji-san for instance. I met him back at the base. His favorite spot was always the third stool down from the counter because he said it had the best views of Mito-san's butt whenever she turned to get a beverage. Even if he was kind of perverted, he was really spunky and fun to be around.”

 

“Are you referring to that wiry old dude missing a bunch of limbs?”

 

“Yeah. That was Banji-san. He even told me he was joining the war effort because they promised him prosthetic limbs for his service. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about the Ants.” Gon smiled, eyes shut and head dropped down. Killua could see the shaking in those slumped shoulders from a mile away. “He just wanted to kick their butts as soon as he could so he could come back and return to fishing again. I'm sure he was probably more focused on returning to Aunt Mito's bar again just so he could watch her from behind and crack all those silly jokes he did whenever she was listening to him.”

 

Killua nodded wordlessly, his focus following Gon's movements as the tan teen made his way past the rubble of the bar counter and dug through the mess for something; that brown-eyed gaze determined and focused at the task at hand. “Mito-san took a lot of pride in her bar. Every night her and I would clean it until it was spotless and she would spend a lot of time organizing everything so it looked exactly the same way every morning when she reopened. The grocery store was even more clean since Abe had a lot of spare time to pick up stuff. The bar always got really messy because people loved to party and have fun there. What was nice was that nobody ever caused a ruckus or tried to start a fight because Mito would chase them out with her metal-handled broom all the way off the docks and into the water! The first time she did it, it was really funny, but nobody ever tried to do it again after that beating. The man looked like he had the chicken pox only they were really bruises!”

 

“Heh. Services him right.” giggled Killua, brow quirked, “Your aunt sounds like one tough lady. I'd be afraid to get on her bad side.”

 

Gon visibly brightened at the comment, genuinely grinning ear to ear over his shoulder even while his hands continued to thumb through the junk. “I know, right? Mito-san is really tough. She could defeat most of the men who came to the bar in a game of arm wrestling. She once entered in a fun competition to see who could lift the most tables and she won by a landslide! 13 tables to another man's 9!”

 

“She must be an Enhancer to be that strong, geez!”

 

Pausing in his sorting of stuff, Gon blinked over at Killua in confusion. “What's an 'Enhancer'?”

 

“It's a _Nen_ thing.” Killua wanted to slap himself for forgetting that it would be _his_ job to teach Gon about _Nen_. He wasn't even positive he could give a good lecture now that he really thought about it. Informative speeches were not on Killua's skills list. Assassins killed with action, not words. “I'll explain about it later.”

 

Gon shrugged and resumed his excavating for a moment longer before he pried something out of the shambles, holding up what appeared to be a photo frame. The spiderwebs of cracks on the glass did little to obscure the picture underneath and Killua fought to squint and see it from so far away up until Gon was holding up said photo directly up to his own face.

 

“This is my father, Ging Freecs.”

 

“Ging.” Killua repeated the name, inspecting the person captured in the picture. The man was kneeling down, smiling, a fishing pole in his hand. He wore a long green tabard similar to Kurapika's but with no detailing on it over a white jumpsuit. The ridiculously large orange hat on his head obscured his hair; so Killua couldn't blame his father or mother for that crazy hairstyle, but Killua would say that Gon and Ging at least shared a similar face. Angled cheek bones and a strong jaw set under a pair of dark hazel eyes. They did have some features in common at least. Ging was knelt in front of a large motorcycle for some reason; possibly trying to look cool, maybe, and he absently wondered when this photograph was taken and how old it really was.

 

“I've heard of Ging before.” The silver-haired teen spoke up, fingering the broken glass a little in interest, “He's one of those Zodiacs or somethin' that are a part of the higher-ups in the Hunter Association.”

 

“Yeah, Kurapika and Hanzo told me. You see, I never actually got to see what my dad looked like. I only know what he looks like from the pictures Mito-san has showed me. This is the last photo of him we had left, kept here in the bar.” Gon said, staring intently down at the frame in hand.

 

“Wait, wait. Hold up, Gon. What do you mean you never seen your father?”

 

Gon didn't look remotely upset by this factor, head cocked to the side. “Aunt Mito raised me since I was as young as I could remember. She told me that Ging apparently had left me in their care as a baby and never returned. Ging went off to explore or something like that, but I didn't find this out until I was a little older. Mito-san lied and insisted my parents were killed in an accident for a very long time before she finally told me the truth.”

 

“What a lousy ass father, tch.” Killua said thoughtlessly out loud but then caught himself and stumbled, stuttering furiously to cover his tracks in shock at his own selfish behavior taking priority over Gon's feelings, “I mean-? Oh crap-! Sorry, Gon. I didn't mean it like that.”

 

Laughing like it had been a joke all along, Gon rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “It's okay. I get that a lot so it's nothing I'm not used to.”

 

“It still doesn't make it right for a parent to just abandon their child like that.”

 

“No,” Gon said, tongue sliding over the back of his teeth as he hummed, “It doesn't I guess. But it is what it is, so I have no choice but to accept it.” He turned partly towards Killua's direction, grinning toothily for some unknown reason. “What about Killua and his parents?”

 

“They're infamous underground assassins.” He replied automatically, just as monotonously as he always did when asked this standard question. It wasn't much of a secret, so he figured he wouldn't lie in Gon's case. He'd find out soon enough without his help. The reactions he got whenever admitting his family were assassins to someone out of the loop was always something worth noting. He kept a mental photo album of all the things out of people he's seen when speaking the truth.

 

Gon's reaction was nothing sort of different, easily put. He earned himself a spot right up front in the 'best reactions' on Killua's book. Page one material. Front cover, even.

 

“Both of them?”

 

“...”

 

They stared at each other in silence; Gon with his ever-beaming smile and Killua looking like he had just been punched in the gut but was fighting the pained expressions that came with it, contorted and awfully humorous.

 

“Are you actually _serious_? That's your FIRST reaction?” The Zoldyck tried; _really_ tried, not to laugh but the tears welled at the corner of his lids were stinging. He couldn't hold them back much longer at this rate.

 

“Uh. Yeah.”

 

“What if I'm lying? What if it was all just some sick, cruel joke or whatever? You actually believe me when I say that they're assassins? You're a riot to be an idiot who'd just believe anything anybody says!”

 

Gon still hadn't budged an inch in his demeanor, curious and interest written plain on his features. “Killua doesn't seem like he's lying though, so, no. It's just a hunch anyway, but I believe it. Are they both assassins?”

 

“Well, yes.” Once he managed to calm the possible uproar of laughter threatening to give, Killua sighed, scratching his cheek. “My whole family is. The Zoldyck family trade really isn't a secret. Everybody knows about them.”

 

“Wow. So that means Killua is an assassin, too.” Gon clapped both his hands together, brightening in further intrigue; his face masking any underlying emotions for an absolutely and horrifyingly accepting one.

 

Killua was more then a little disturbed to find a person who wasn't remotely bothered by that dreaded fact and from the way Gon appeared it was just as unsettling to know it wasn't being faked. And yet somehow, it didn't surprise him either. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

 

They spent another drawn out moment in awkward quietness, until Gon's feet crunched on already splintered wood and snapped Killua up to attention; his cobalt blue eyes wide. Gesturing further away, Gon picked up a light jog again, frame and apple still in hand as he waved for Killua to follow. “Come on, Killua, before it gets any later. I have one more place I want to visit. The grocery store is too burnt down to find, but at least the bar was intact enough that Killua got to see it.”

 

“Okay.” Killua followed instantaneously, catching up before Gon got too far ahead. The teenage pair quickly ascended back up the side of the desolate hill and made their way north bound. It took them around twenty minutes of fast paced running to land them at the bottom of a thicket branching off into the wide open range on a grassy mound. Perched firmly atop it lay a small house; so unshapely in comparison to all the normal homes Killua was accustomed to seeing.

 

It was round, domed almost, and believably close to what must be made of cement or rock. It was a cool minty gray and surrounding it lay an enormous tree, winding around as if it was protecting the home and settled itself on top to rest. Furthermore, there were even some untouched clothes and sheets hanging on the line, barely blowing in the faintest breeze.

 

Gon lead the way up the hill and paused at the small cobblestone pathway leading to the door; swinging off the hinges and squeaking as it dangled on its last leg hold. It was a splintered, ruined mess; huge scratch marks cut deep into mahogany and leaving a lasting scar.

 

Killua bet the scar on that door didn't cut as deep as Gon's did.

 

“This is my home.” came Gon's dulled, hollow-filled voice after what felt like hours of the pair just staring at the entrance in silence. Killua swallowed the lump in his throat he didn't know he had been holding. “Aunt Mito, Abe, and I all lived here together since I was a baby. After Ging left me in their care, Mito-san fought for custody and eventually won the rights over me, so she became my official guardian. We've been here since.”

 

“What about your real mother? I mean, if you know.” Killua asked, tone hushed and quiet.

 

“Nobody knows.” Gon looked to the side, eyeballing the destroyed mail box shattered into many pieces and fragments. The small red flag was embedded into the mushy ground, never to be pulled out again. “Ging never told Mito-san, so they couldn't tell me much. To be honest, whenever I'm asked about my birth mother, all I can picture is Mito-san.” He turned then and smiled; only faltering in the slightest, “Mito-san is the only mother I've ever known. I don't think that will ever change.”

 

Killua bobbed his head mutely and proceeded after Gon as they walked into the house, knocking the door off in the process. It crashed to the floor with a _Thud_ and Killua caught the barest hint of a pained flinch from Gon, but it was only for a moment.

 

 _Poor guy._ The silver-haired teenager thought grimly while watching the back of Gon's insanely upright hairdo, face in a dark scowl, _He lost everything he grew up with in one moment. That's rough._

 

The living room was in complete shambles. The dining room table was split into battered chunks and strung about as haphazardly as the rest of the furniture. The Chimera Ants had done more then just ransacked the place. They demolished it. The plaster and paint on the walls was gutted, claw marks and holes occupying most of what was left of a nice cream color coating. Smears of opaque reddish blood painted the floors, the walls, the furniture; the entire room really. Even a blood bath wouldn't have looked worse then this.

 

“Their bodies are gone.”

 

“Bodies?” asked Killua, glancing over as Gon was inspecting the floor, rubbing a bit of grime and dried blood between his two forefingers, “Who's bodies?”

 

“Aunt Mito and Abe. They were here in the living room when I came in through the door. The Chimera Ants were here, too. But there doesn't look like there's any sign of their bodies here anymore.”

 

“Do you think perhaps they moved them?” Killua went on, fighting hard not to ask the more obvious question of whether or not they were probably _eaten._ As far as he could remember, the Ants had developed an insatiable taste for human flesh. It would come as no surprise if they had Gon's family as a snack. But he couldn't find the heart to tell Gon the truth or even suggest it. He figured the guy had been through enough heart break already.

 

“Maybe. That would be the most logical thing as to why they're gone.”

 

Gon stood and began his trek towards the kitchen, Killua not far behind until he was spotting from the corner of his eye a small finger or two lying in the furthest part of the room closest to the stairs. He quietly sneaked over undetected and bent down to examine them, rolling the shriveled up digits in his hand. A woman's finger, a ring clearly upon it and judging by the length of the nail and wrinkles on the knuckle; it was of an elderly female no less.

 

_Well, shit._

 

Killua picked up the two fingers and hastily stuffed them into the nearby drawer not completely demolished in the fight, wiping a nervous bead of sweat from his brow. He prayed Gon didn't notice.

 

“Hey, Killua.” Gon's emotionless words found him as he entered the kitchen, stepping over the wreckage of a broken fridge in the process. “Do you know how long I was being kept in that prison for?”

 

“No,” Killua said; keeping his volume as level as possible so not to give off any distress after finding out that Gon's family members had most likely been devoured by the Ants, “I don't know. At best, it may had been a month or so. It took us a week to stake out the place and set up our stronghold. When we got the order to attack it, it had been another week prior between freeing the other Whale Island prisons; which might mean that the base had been up for awhile before it was discovered by the Hunter Association. It was the last one left on the island that we hadn't hit.”

 

“A month, huh. Time sure does fly by, doesn't it.” Gon drawled more so to himself then anything and Killua could clearly see how withdrawn and voided those amber eyes were, shady and somber inside.

 

The assassin gently patted Gon on the shoulder, feeling the tense rigidness beneath those roughly textured green clothes, and a sigh came from the sun-kissed teen in recognition of the touch. “Everything will be okay, Gon.” _Even if the bodies of your aunt and grandma might never be found again._

 

“Yeah.” was all he managed, but Killua was oddly thankful he replied at least.

 

Bending over suddenly, Gon fished out a deep sea-foam green object from the floor, sturdy and rounded on the ends and held it up for Killua to see, teeth flashing behind that grin of his. A total turn around in demeanor.

 

“Ne, Killua, want some month old moldy bread? I promise it's fresh. Freshly stale.”

 

“...”

 

“On second thought.” Killua began, the nails of his right hand protruding abnormally while his mouth twitched. Veins were popping out along his hand; the same as Gon's eyes were while he watched. The tannest male sweat-dropped in the background but kept right on grinning despite. “I take back what I said. After I kill you, it'll be okay again.” With all the power he could muster, Killua smacked the rock solid loaf of bread as hard as he could across the room. It collided against the wall and fell back to the floor again, completely undisturbed. Blue eyes shot bullets at gold. “Idiot! Don't offer stinky molded bread to someone! Do you want me to be sick!? _Again??_ ”

 

“Hahaha.” Gon was laughing and Killua rubbed the knuckles of his hand roughly into the side on that big, goofy head of the Freecs boy, “It was a joke, Killua. I know old bread is bad for you, especially month old bread!”

 

“Then don't offer it, _moron!_ ”

 

“Okay, okay! I won't! Now stop, please! That hurts!” The whines Gon made cut off the second Killua's fist left him, then he pointed over at the grotesque clawed hand dangling at the assassin's side, undisturbed. “How did you do that? With your hand.”

 

Taken off guard at being caught red-handed with his innate skill to defend himself from his own irritable emotions, Killua did a double-take at his own twitching limb and blinked, slow dawning hitting him. “Oh, this?” He snorted, raising his hand up to their eye level, flexing the long nails in the air with precise, quick movements. “It's an assassination technique. Sometimes when I get worked up my hand does this naturally, but usually I will it to happen on my own.” He lowed his palm flat, stretching the fingers out jerkily until they each popped softly. “It's like having super powered knives for hands and let's me cut through even metal and steel. Everyone in my family can do it.”

 

Gon tentatively poked one of Killua's nails with a childish curiosity betraying him of his real age. “Wow. That's cool. Killua can even cut through the month old bread now with those things!”

 

Killua didn't even hesitate to bap Gon on the head, earning a string of whiny protests, and made his way out of the kitchen and towards the nearby stairs, a thumb thrown up that way. “Come on, idiot. Give me rest of your tour. We're on a time restraint as it is.”

 

“Owwww! Okay, okay.” Nursing the miniature bump left behind from the hit, Gon superseded Killua at the foot of the staircase, “You're still mean, Killua.”

 

“And you're still an idiot.”

 

“Touche.”

 

With the refreshed and lighthearted atmosphere restored to its former glory; together, they climbed the small flight of plush stairs. The carpet was ripped, torn, and dirty under their clean, untainted shoes. A few steps were missing, both boys easily hopping over the empty section and reaching the top floor to spectate the current state of the second level. The bathroom was beyond repair so they hadn't even bothered trying to squeeze through what was left of that squished space. Gon peeked into Mito-san and Abe's rooms, neither looking more worse for wear, and he bypassed those on his way towards the remaining bedroom.

 

“This is where I slept.” Gon said, jumping over the crushed door frame crushed and fractured into something much less recognizable. “Mito-san said it used to be Ging's before I came. It's my room now.”

 

Killua took a quick look around since there wasn't much left to see. There was a small bed in the corner, mattress stuffing littering the debris on the makeshift rug. Either a really large cat shredded it based off the ridiculous gashes in the poor bed, or they hacked away with a blade thinking Gon hid a secret stash in there. Gon's dresser was toppled over on it's side, pieces of clothing fabric and broken drawers thrown every which way. The glass of the windows were shattered, allowing the crisp, icy breeze to roll in and drop the temperature of the room to a cold degree. A room once clean and usable had now been rendered into a wreck; botched of its original purpose.

 

The goosebumps on Gon's arms were more or less easy to see, even in the meager room lighting.

 

Licking his lips again, Killua put on his best poker face; a forced smile and Gon instantly beamed at it, believing the falsity. “It's nice, Gon.”

 

Killua almost tripped over himself if it wasn't for Gon's brutal honesty keeping him on the tips of his toes. “I know right?” Gon was somehow laughing and the albino absently wondered if it was a possible slip of Gon's own sanity that made him do it. He hoped it was the latter. “I was never one for keeping my room clean when I was younger so Aunt Mito would always yell until I gave in and picked up my things. But she was always nice and would sometimes pick it up for me when I wasn't having a good day.”

 

Thin, browned fingers felt along the torn wallpaper, touching its rough outer coating and Gon sighed forlornly as he was gazing sadly out the window. “I didn't spend very much time here, either, because I liked to camp outside a lot or with Aunt Mito as a child. The room didn't get used nearly enough as it should have when I was growing up.”

 

Gon was ambling around slowly, accounting tale after tale of things that happened in his room; that Killua eventually became so absorbed in the stories his vision glassed over and he was slack-jawed, quiet, lax against the wall while he watched. He was amazed at the guy's amazing memory to retell so many vivid moments in his life. Killua honestly could care less about his own past or what happened; actually forgoing to _forget_ it; the sooner the better. But it was obvious Gon Freecs cherished his memories; his past of a makeshift family and Killua couldn't stop the smallest of genuine smiles gracing the corners o f his lips. The bright, luminescent way Gon's face lit up as he reminisced the good ol' days, would chuckle and grin at something silly, then frown and the barest hints of tears pricking at his eyes whenever he retold something depressing.

 

Gon wore his emotions on his sleeve like a badge of honor, as they plainly put it.

 

A part of Killua wished he shared in the same sentiment; his sleeve as void and empty as his heart.

 

“This,” Gon said when his words cleared up a little in Killua's fogged up head, holding up what must be a fishing pole from the rounded, colorful end, “Is Ging's. The only keepsake he left behind to my aunt.”

 

“Looks pretty scrawny for a fishing pole.” Killua pointed out, fingering the short pole with a disgruntled look.

 

Gon bemusedly laughed at Killua's funny face and pulled on two ends to make the pole longer, extending it to its full height until the bobbing end was dangling just at the tip. “It gets longer you know.”

 

The slight flush of embarrassment didn't go unnoticed. “..I knew that.”

 

When Gon returned it to its miniature version, he slung the pole over his shoulder, grinning ear to ear. “Mito-san gave it to me when I first turned 16. I used it to catch the Master of the Swamp on Whale Island on a whim and the whole town celebrated it like it was my passage into adulthood. Or some silly thing like that.”

 

“The Master of the Swamp?”

 

“It's a really big blue fish.”

 

“Ick.”

 

Gon rolled his eyes but didn't look remotely appalled by the reaction. “Ging is the only other person on Whale Island who's managed to catch the fish, so that made me the second. I guess nobody was very surprised because I'm his son. It runs in our 'blood' or something funny like that. They celebrated with festivities for a few days and the whole island gathered around to watch me put the fish back into the swamp.”

 

“It sounds like they made a real big deal out of you catching a fish. But, you do live on a fisherman's island, so of course it makes sense. It's a fish fanatic's place.” Killua mocked, smirking, and Gon lightly punched the pale-skinned teen in the side.

 

“Yeah. They kind of overdid it. But Mito-san was proud of me though, so that was all that mattered.”

 

“Are you going to keep it? Your dad's fishing pole.”

 

Gon held it up then and flicked his wrist a little, letting the tackle bob in the air. There was an unmistakable fire in those amber eyes; golden tendrils of red and orange hues blending with yellow, burning like a polished gem. Killua wouldn't dare admit it out loud that it was a breathtaking sight; something he had only read in comic books, seen portrayed on television with those sappy soap operas, or found buried in his deepest fantasies of people who were made of light, danced and did the tango with the almighty and holy. A place; a realm, he would never try to touch, to get near of. For his unworthiness would be like a plague to this out-of-reach dream. He would never obtain it. He would only taint it.

 

And here Gon was; the boy of those dreams brandishing those courageous, hopeful eyes like a diamond sword, clean and cut and ready to do battle as Killua hovered in the background of this rare presence; a shadow cast in the reflecting light.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Gon looked Killua's way, acknowledging him with that presence; sapping all air from his lungs in that moment. Said moment he promised himself he would never forget.

 

“I'm keeping it.”

 

 _Me too,_ Killua thought, no, knew. _Me too._


	12. When they catch you Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boat ride towards Zaban City commences.
> 
> Killua embarks on an emotional roller coaster of a journey and strangely; he's content with its pace as long as a certain someone is there to share in the experience with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY GONNNNNNN (and me lmao I share his bday okay haha)
> 
> Because it's his birthday, I added a sappy flash forward just because I can and u know what, maybe I will add this in the future just cuz AND WHATEVER DEAL WITH IT I GOT ALL CHEESY ARGH. Otherwise, I'm finally progressing forward and excited to see what's in store for them cause all the ideas are flowing and I am wired like electric cables bebi lmfaoimweirdstfu.
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for all the feedback and support as usual. I appreciate it. The next few chapters are gonna be long so you're warned beforehand.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

**12**

 

The small red flag cut from Mito-san's own coveted shirt waved high in the air, hoisted at the tip of the hill where Mito and Abe's graves had been dug- their burial securing themselves permanent remembrance in Gon Freecs mind as he waved the further those two small stones shrunk from view. Even though he knew their spirits probably couldn't spot his hand in the distance, he still kept it held high with aspiration; all the way until Whale Island slipped out of sight.

 

“See you later, Whale Island.” Gon saluted and Killua was face palming beside him. “You will be greatly missed, but rest assured, I'll be back soon! I promise!”

 

“It's an island, Gon. It doesn't speak English. It doesn't even talk, period.”

 

The assassin made a disgruntled sound at Gon's sideways glance his way. “It's still my home. I think the least I can do is show my appreciation for it.”

 

“Whatever you say, weirdo.”

 

Killua twisted on his heel and walked off, Gon trailing behind him still smiling brightly as he stretched openly in the air. They were lucky to have been picked for the main boat ride; the one Hanzo and most of his trusted commandeers were boarded on. That guaranteed them the best safety net in the course of a surprise enemy attack because the strongest members of their squad were gathered together.

 

Three boats together; all departing at varying times, had set sail from Whale Island in separate directions. Half-way between Whale Island and their next destination; they would pause at another smaller island to pick up the members of **Silver Squadron 1** ; the attacking formation. Again, they would be divided into three factions and the groups will all transfer between different points until eventually meeting back together in The Republic of Padokia.

 

And although Gon and Killua had been lucky to wind up on the same boat as Kurapika, Leorio, and even Hanzo; well, their luck wasn't going to hold up if Killua's prediction played out right.

 

He hoped it wouldn't.

 

“Where's Kurapika and Leorio?” Gon voiced aloud Killua's wandering thoughts, following him along the small, creaky old deck of a pathetic-excuse for a boat. Killua gave the boat maybe a day at best before it broke down judging by how poorly built it was. This wasn't even accounting for the amount of damage it seemed to have already sustained. Even the outer shell was as rotted as the inside. The wood beneath their toes was barely holding under their weight and he knew adding on even a few more bodies would have them clinging to the boat's less-then-likely resilient undercarriage for the rest of the oh-so-joyous ride.

 

“Somewhere in the main cabin probably conversing with Hanzo about business-crap or something like that. I don't know and I don't really care.” Killua wiggled his hands down into the pockets of his new change in attire; a pair of dark navy shorts with white stripes down the sides and a matching navy turtle-neck sweater under a loose, creamy white v-neck shirt. Gon took in the appreciating amounts of pale skin that was now exposed to the daylight and would giggle to himself once and awhile at how Killua's purple sneakers had little dots and lines on them that he often mistook for a face unless he did a double-take.

 

Gon really liked this change in Killua; unlike so many who wore the customary garb of war, all so uniformed and same. It was like a never ending parade of puppets, all marching to the same beat, the same pace; all looking exactly alike.

 

Now that the Zoldyck stood out even more, Gon was more then happy to stare at this open display of defiance. At least, in his mind anyway, that was what he'd imagine it to be as.

 

“Why don't you care, Killua?” asked Gon out of nowhere, propping his elbows on the railing where Killua had paused to stand; his sapphire eyes scanning the outstretch of blue horizon going on for miles on end. His eyes matched the color of the sea and Gon wouldn't lie in saying that he kind of liked that fact.

 

Killua didn't look at him when he spoke, chin held high on the cool updraft wafting from the sea below that Gon could clearly see the goosebumps there. “Why should I? I mean, it's not like I have any business with the stuff they discuss concerning the war. I'm pretty much here just to fight and avoid any confrontation with my parents. Why should I get involved with any of that tactical shit if it's just going to end up throwing me over into the hands of the Hunter Association? They're such freaks when it comes to the Zoldycks, it's not even funny. I'd be on the front lines if it hadn't been or Hanzo's persuasive nagginess that grabbed me in his favor.”

 

“Why does the association want to recruit your family?”

 

“Well, since we're at war, the Hunter Association is desperate for strong fighters.” The words rolled right off the albino's tongue; a practiced and rehearsed sentiment, more or less. “There aren't that many Hunters out there that can pose a major threat to the Chimera Ants. So, they're looking for anybody who's capable of making even a dent in the oppositions force. Who better then to call the world's most renowned family of assassins? My father was all-too willing to join the effort with a little persuasion; my grandpa not so eager until they flashed on the dollar signs. They even recruited my fat brother, Milluki, who probably hasn't seen daylight since he was a snobby brat kid. My mother stayed behind to take care of our younger siblings and deal with our business because; you know, ' _we somehow still have one even while the whole world is at war'_ or some crap like that.”

 

“Wow! What kind of assassination jobs does someone get in the middle of a war?”

 

“Hell if I know.” Killua laughed like it was somehow funny. Gon didn't. “My guess is probably to assassinate Chimera Ants or something stupid like that. Even better would be people desperate to rid of other budding members of society; like the upper-class, before saving their sorry asses to out live and take their spot when the war 'ends'. That's just my hypothesis anyway. People just love to take matters into their own hands when there's all this insuring chaos and madness to back them up. It's the perfect cover-up for a perfect getaway murder.”

 

“I guess that sounds logical.” A small, quiet hum and a nod answered back.

 

Killua was carding his fingers through his silver tufts with a heavy sigh while he continued, maintaining his eye contact on the stretch of endless water and not Gon's blank, neutral expression watching him like a hawk. “Of course it's logical. That's how greedy and selfish society is. They'll do anything to rise in power if it means having endless riches and spoils to feed their fat asses for the rest of their lives. It's so dumb.”

 

“We're only humans.” was all Gon managed to push out, throat tightening and Killua finally acknowledged his presence, a brow raised. “And humans do stupid things all the time.” Gon turned over and smiled. Killua never felt more unnerved in his entire life then now, staring into that happy, carefree face of Gon Freecs. He both wanted to stay and flee at the same time; his mind and body torn between which was the wiser choice.

 

He just couldn't pick either.

 

“But, that's what makes us who we are, you know? Aunt Mito told me something like that once, when we rescued a baby Foxbear cub from some poachers. It was on the verge of death and when I first saw it, I thought it would have been better to put it out of its misery. It was suffering and in so much pain, that I panicked and almost did something really wrong. Mito-san reprimanded me though; stating that life was precious and special, that we shouldn't just throw it away if someone is still fighting to survive. Just like that cub was. I realized then that what I had tried to do was stupid and Mito-san said people do a lot of stupid things in their life. But those stupid things are what make us into who we are now. Her and I worked together to save the fox bear cub and eventually released it back into the wild where it's now living a nice and happy life again.”

 

“When the hell did you become philosophical.”

 

It was Gon's turn to laugh and he did not know why this time.

 

“I don't really know.”

 

“You're really weird, Gon.” Killua fought the urge to smile himself; because Gon's smiles were contagious and so was this thick, warm atmosphere radiating from melted caramel skin and gold, honey-suckle orbs. It was suffocating. Almost.

 

“Now, that, I do know!” Gon threw a finger to the air and it flailed in the air when Killua smacked him, hard, in the back of the head. “Oww! That hurt!”

 

“ _Idiot_.”

 

“I don't mind being an idiot if it means I get to be friends with Killua. So call me an idiot as much as you want.” said Gon, matter-of-factually. Killua's eyes widened in shock.

 

_Friend...?_

 

“Gon, I-?”

 

“Nice blush you're sporting Killua. Looks great on you.”

 

“ _Shit._ ”

 

Out of nowhere, Leorio appeared behind them, smirk clear as day and hands on his hips. Killua quickly turned his slowly reddening face from view and coughed; his colorful skin hidden behind his unruly bangs. His blue eyes were now narrowed to slits and he hissed under his breath like a seething cat that had just been interrupted in a middle of a good meal. A real good meal, honestly. Gon laughed abashedly, rubbing the back of his neck gently in his familiar guilty gesture. He waved to Leorio while he approached, greeting him with a broad grin.

 

“Hey, Leorio. It's good to see you! Killua and I were wondering where you went.”

 

“Hey, Gon. _Kil-lu-a._ ” Leorio punctuated the albino's name, granting him a disapproving twitch.

 

“Li-or-i-o.”

 

“It's Leorio, you dumb brat!”

 

“Liorio.”

 

“LE-OR-I-O.”

 

“Leonardo”

 

“You're such a punk ass.”

 

“Thanks, old fart.”

 

“Leorio-san!”

 

Instead of his fist attempting to pulverize the white-haired assassin; Leorio thrust a finger towards Gon's way and beamed. “See, somebody at least gets my name correct. What does it take to get a little bit of appreciation around here? Seriously? Is it to much to ask for a little bit of respect for your elders?”

 

“Well, you are old, so I guess-” Killua started but Gon was flailing in front of the others mouth wildly to stop him from talking. Killua's small glare was all Leorio could make out past Gon's bulging, brownish hands.

 

“Don't mind Killua.” The Freecs teen chuckled, nudging the stiffened bleached-haired teen beside him with his elbow. Killua grunted but didn't budge. “He's just being grouchy. What about you? Where's Kurapika?”

 

“Still with Hanzo addressing the matters of our cargo transports. He wants to make sure they're making good progress.” Gon was smiling; big, and Killua looked absolutely bored.

 

 _Yeah, they make a good pair._ _A pair of polar opposite, bratty teenagers._ Leorio commended and coughed softly, putting on his best face. “Anyway, I came to see what you two were up to before we hit the first stop. Are you enjoying the boat ride so far?”

 

“Yeah!” Gon brightened like an excited kid in a candy store; his grin threatening to split his face in half. It was so happy. “Boat rides are so much fun. Mito-san and I used to take boat rides all the time around the Island and I even once made myself a make-shift raft to wade down some of the smaller streams when I was younger. I found all the best fishing spots that way.”

 

“Seems like you've done stuff like this before, Gon.” nodded Leorio, pleasantly surprised.

 

“Yep!”

 

“It's boring. I think I'd be better off swimming there at this rate. It'd be faster. Does this thing seriously go _this_ slow?” Killua's dry comment came next, an expression to match. Leorio's brow furrowed, mouth twitching at the sides.

 

“It's all the Association would give us in order to not draw attention to ourselves. So, of course it's going to look shitty and be slow, but at least it's better then nothing, you snot. Show some appreciation will you?! Hanzo worked really hard to get this thing!”

 

“Really?” Killua was glancing left and right and beside him, Gon wore a badge of neutrality; completely oblivious to the dueling emotions at hand. “Because this thing is as run down as a piece of junk. If he tried hard to get it, then he really screwed himself over. We could have done better with paddle boats and oars.”

 

“Killua, you are so-”

 

“Hey, Leorio! Where are we headed exactly, anyway?” Gon intercepted, perking up expectantly. Killua smirked victoriously next to him and Leorio's fist was moments away from punching off that snotty teenager's mouth if he didn't hesitate to do it.

 

Calmly and with much effort, the medical hunter lowered his hand into the pocket of his dress trousers, grumbling under his breath profanity after profanity to get it off his chest, before speaking. “Zaban City. Not that far from here luckily. That's where we're picking up more members from the **Silver Squadron** to take with us on our way to Padokia. I hear they're all gathered there after clearing out the remaining Chimera Ant forces that were stationed in the city.”

 

“Really? How long did it take for them to do that?”

 

“Barely even a week.”

 

“Is that good?” Gon turned to Killua, starry-eyed with interest. The assassin inhaled sharply and laughed, although it sounded more forced then anything. The tanned-skinned teen's face then faltered, dropping its earlier eagerness for concern. There was a harsh, degrading atmosphere in the ring of that laugh now and Gon didn't even need super inhuman senses to feel the icy chill all the way down into his very bone marrow.

 

“Is that _good_? Hah! Gon, that's just _insane_ , really. It took us almost a month or so to clear out Whale Island's prisons and it takes them a _week_ to desolate an entire city filled with mutant Ants. Is that good you ask? That's just fucking _ridiculous._ ”

 

“Wait, Killua-”

 

“No.” The aforementioned boy held up his hand, stopping Leorio in his tracks with a haughty glare, lip bit, “Just, no. I don't want to hear it. Those people are crazy I tell you. All they care about is killing. All they do is kill. It's no better then what I do. I just can't understand how they can act so cruelly towards their comrades. How can people like that be so.. be so-”

 

“Not all of them are like that, Killua. I mean, some of our friends are there, like Senritsu, and they aren't focused on just killing! So, don't you dare say that when it's not true.” Leorio pressed, butting in. Gon was busying himself looking from Killua back to Leorio and so forth; watching them converse and ears intently focused. He could see every twitch and twist of Killua's face, a sense of madness sinking in; and the way Leorio's mouth and eyes contorted, looking pained and disturbed altogether. Like he knew Killua had a point but was afraid to agree to it, while Killua was lost in the warring thoughts of factual life.

 

Gon wished he understood better to offer anything to console either of his two new pals; but alas, he could only remain silent and in neutral standing. And he hated that.

 

“It is true and you know it, Leorio. That's their job. To kill the Ants. They don't save anyone. They don't care. They just destroy everything, _just_ like the Association _ORDERED_ them to do!”

 

Killua was storming off faster then Gon could get his hands around those bony wrists and stop him. But before Gon could follow after the albino, it was Leorio who caught his arm and forced him to a halt. Gon was helpless as he watched the back of Killua's strong, rigid back, fade off into the distance, until he eventually disappeared below the boat deck and shut the door behind him, effectively gone. Those slumped, defeated shoulders of someone trembling with anxiety and negative, viral emotion was burned behind Gon's retina's; burned into his memory now. He couldn't get it out even if he tried.

 

“Killua! Wait-!”

 

“Gon. Leave him be.” Leorio instructed and Gon could clearly see the pain now in the older man's expression. “I know you want to help, but there isn't anything you can do.”

 

“Why not?” Amber orbs erupted then, a flickering of flames in the backs of his eyes, a spark of emotion that hadn't been there now more obvious than ever. _Anger._ “Killua's upset. Why can't I help him?”

 

“You don't understand, Gon-”

 

“Then I _want_ to understand!” He ripped his arm away from Leorio; who gasped, a glare sent his way. “Just tell me, Leorio! Make me understand so I can help!”

 

“You hardly even know him, Gon. How do you expect to understand just like that? You can't! We've been fighting this war with Killua for years. We've seen and done a lot of shit we regret. But you can't just expect to know what we've been through all at once. It just doesn't work like that!”

 

“I don't care!”

 

“Gon!”

 

“ _I don't care!!_ ”

 

“Gon, stop-!”

 

 _Smash_ went the edge of the boat's outer rim when Gon's fist went flying through it, splintering the wood to a hundred pieces. They went every which way, Leorio shielding his face in time from the force of the cracking Gon's hand produced. His knuckles stay lodged there, blood peppering the skin around the developing bruises, and the tremble in Gon's breathing was rugged, hoarse. He was breathing in shallow, deep gulps and Leorio undoubtedly saw the tense flare of aura rippling off Gon's frame, angry and cautious like a lethal animal ready to tear into the nearest victim, but still debating on its plan of attack.

 

There was a deadly blackness darkening those golden-yellow eyes of Gon's then and Leorio could easily feel the tapping of the Grim Reaper's cold, bony hand on his shoulder. A shadow looming on the horizon, kissing away the light.

 

Out of purely trained instinct, Leorio took a cautionary step back, hands raised defensively in front of him, and the brief flash of terror in his face seemed to snap Gon from his senses; because he was blinking and looking completely normal in just one bat of an eye.

 

“Leorio? Are you okay?”

 

“Gon-??”

 

“What's going on here?”

 

Kurapika's voice brought both males to attention, garnering their blank, confused stares in the blonde's direction. Kurapika blinked twice then cocked his head to the side, looking perturbed. “What's with those looks? What happened?” His sight fell on Gon's hand still hovering in the gaping hole of the ship's hull and he rose a brow heavenward. “And why are you punching the boat, Gon? It's already a wreck. I know you want to help but that's not really the proper way to do so.”

 

“Oh-” Gon quickly pried his embedded limb free and wiped the bloody knuckle furiously with his jacket, laughing tersely, “Sorry Kurapika. I don't know what came over me.”

 

“It's alright.” Kurapika accepted Gon's apology with a nod before turning to Leorio who was slowly unwinding his locked-up limbs from the odd position he was in. “Should I even ask what is going on here?”

 

“Later.” was all the doctor croaked out, the slight furrow of his brow making Kurapika purse his lips thoughtfully. The muscles in Leorio's face were scrunched and wrongfully taut, like a wordless signal to his friend. With a resolute nod, the silent message passed between them was received.

 

“I just got done speaking with Hanzo and he says we should arrive at Zaban City in no less then two hours. The ocean's clear and calm as day which will make our travel go by quicker. That's the good news.”

 

“Does that mean there is bad news then?” Gon asked, thumb distractedly rubbing at his bleeding knuckle.

 

Kurapika smiled, though faintly. “A little. But it's honestly not going to be a big deal with all of us Hunters gathered together so tight-knit. So it won't be of too great a concern unless we're posed with a dangerous and powerful threat.”

 

“Is it more Ants?” Leorio begrudgingly tossed in the air, looking sickly-pale at the idea. Kurapika; unfortunately, confirmed his worries with a bob of his head.

 

“Sadly, yes. We just received a transmission from Satotz stating there is a small fleet of Ants spotted on the horizon, headed towards Zaban City. We'll be intercepting them as we're making our way in. But it shouldn't be much of a hassle because they'll have both **Silver Squadrons** to contend with.”

 

“I guess so.” said Leorio but there was no confidence in his tone. Gon's mouth was held in a grim line, quiet and tight-lipped. “Did he happen to mention how much we'll possibly be facing?”

 

“They estimate between 150-200 Chimera Ants. None of them seem to carry any _Nen_ -aura which groups them on the weaker end of the scale. That's our best hope really.”

 

Gon blinked, raising his hand ever-so slightly and coughed under his breath. “Wait, Kurapika. Are there really Chimera Ants who can use _Nen_ ? I thought only humans could use _Nen._ ”

 

“Yes, there are. And every living thing has _Nen_ , Gon, but only certain individuals are even capable of using it. In this case, it's very rare to find any Ants outside the front lines who can use it. Most of the strongest Ants are stationed near the main-point of the war, where you'll find Chairman Netero and his troops battling. That's where they would need the _Nen_ power the most.”

 

“Are they strong?” Gon hesitantly added, moving a step away from the damage he's caused to the rickety boat. “I mean, like, with _Nen_ anyway. How strong are they?”

 

“Real strong, Gon. So strong, that just one Chimera Ant wielding _Nen_ could possibly wipe out our entire team in one go. That's how scarily powerful they are.” Leorio answered for Kurapika, face in all seriousness. Gon gulped, nodding.

 

“The point of the matter is, we'll be having a small battle on our hands when we reach Zaban City. So I think it's time we have a quick chat about _Nen_ so Gon has at least a basic understanding of it before he's forced to fight alongside us. Don't you think so, Leorio?” Kurapika settled a hand on his companion's shoulder, squeezing, and Leorio couldn't help but sigh and give into the touch. He immediately loosened in the build and rose to his full height, dusting off the bits of finely shredded wood from his pants, a smile on his lips.

 

“Yeah. Alright. You're the boss. Time to show Gon some _Nen_ then.”

 

“Cool!” Gon threw up his arms, grinning ear to ear. “Finally I get to learn _Nen._ I can't wait.”

 

“But first,” Leorio held up a hand to amend for his earlier behavior and Gon couldn't grin any bigger then he already was if he tried; which believably, he was trying, “Let's get Killua. He should be apart of this, too.”

 

“Yes. Yes he should.” Kurapika agreed.

 

And they were both wrong. Gon could grin even bigger because his eyes started watering and the sides of his face started twitching rather humorously and the three males couldn't help but fall into a small fit of shared laughter at the funny familiarity of their current predicament. A new comrade by their side, now.

 

“Alright. Here we come, Killua!”

 

* * *

 

“You don't look so well, Killua.”

 

A soft voice, feminine, but also cautious, spoke from behind the Zoldyck teen and he quickly withdrew his shoulders inward, hugging at his knees with a glare at the wall. Just when he finally thought he had managed to seclude himself alone, _somebody_ had to find him. There was a limited amount of space and a limited amount of available rooms on this run-down ship. He just so happened to stumble upon the only vacant storage room with enough area for maybe two people at best, but that was pushing it. At least it was her, anyway, and not some other _lousy_ excuse for 'friends'. “Are you sure you don't want me to get you something?”

 

“No, Palm. I'm _fine._ I told you this ten times already. I don't need anything. Now can you please go away already?” Killua accentuated the _fine_ part with much effort, his eyes pinched together from the tensing in his face. As much as he hated being rude to one of the very few sensible _women_ in their squad that he held ample respect for (Palm seemed incapable of treating anyone who was younger then her with an ounce of courtesy so it gave him plenty of pleasure to argue with her on one of her _good_ days), he just didn't feel in the mood today to be bothered. Palm Siberia's bipolar moments were unpredictable; if he caught her on a bad time, he'd sooner find his neck hanging in a unforgiving noose then clash a duel of heated words with her.

 

Or the few times he found huge steak knives stabbed in his bed just an inch apart from tearing into his throat. There was that too.

 

He knew being rude at a moment that she was being nice would be forcing him to sign his death certificate for an early grave that even his family's insanely gifted assassination talents couldn't prevent.

 

“But you don't-”

 

“I'm fine!”

 

Through the shaggy forest of tangled black locks, Palm's dark eyes squinted and if Killua had been paying better attention he might have saw how deeply frowned her thin lips were. Stomping over without making the slightest sound; the woman named Palm grabbed hold of both the young assassin's ears and yanked as hard as she was able. The none-too-manly shriek that came from Killua's throat would have been ear-bleeding worthy if she didn't clamp a hand over his mouth right after, releasing her grip with a huff.

 

“You're not fine and it's more then obvious, too! So quit being a baby and let me do something to _help!_ ”

 

“Palm-” Killua started to say the second she pulled her hand from his mouth but it was quickly slapped back on when those crystal blue eyes found themselves lock in onyx ones, still glaring through her hair.

 

“Excuse me, young, Mr. Zoldyck; but you're stubborn. So stubborn that it drives crazy caring types like me to the brink of insanity! Do I need to drill some sense through that thick skull of yours or what? You know some of us care, even if you choose to ignore it. The least you can do is show us a little bit of recognition.”

 

“But I do-!” He attempted to speak through her fingers but her grip on his face was unrelenting, long nails digging into his cheek bones a little too hard for his liking. Tears dotted at the corners of his eyes.

 

“No, you push us away every time, running away to sulk and mope alone just like you're doing right now. So what's your excuse this time for me to be finding you curled up in a corner pouting like a child? You're sixteen years old, Killua. A growing young man. It's time to act like one.”

 

Prying off her hands, Killua sent his own glare her way; a pair of narrowed eyes challenging each other in a duel that neither would back down from. “Hey! I act like an adult! Geez, give me some credit for at least _trying_ to act civilized and normal like everybody else. I try to get along with people but it just ain't a cinch to do, okay?! You know it's not as easy as everyone makes it out to be. I try and try and _try_ and no matter what I do, it hasn't gotten any better. Cut me some slack, I'm just one stinking person!”

 

There was a lone pause of silence distributed between them, edgy and suffocating, before the woman sucked in a deep breath and sighed out loud, bristling Killua where he stood. “I know.” Palm's scrunched up face relaxed, smile forming, and Killua released the grip on her wrists in surprise at the tender expression he was receiving. “I know exactly what you mean. I'm happy to hear you say that, Killua. It's true. And you have been trying so hard that we're so proud of you. We just want what's best for you, that's all. And if it means doing stupid things like this, well, then that's okay too. You've been making progress! Don't you think? We all think so. And all you have to do is just keep right on going! That's all!”

 

“'We?' Who's 'we'? What is that supposed to mean? What the hell are you talking about?” Confused. Killua was confused. It was written as obvious as the faint jagged lines on his brow, his chin, his neck. More obvious then the crisscrossing cuts etched in pearly white on the backs of his wrist, his hands, the insides of his elbows. Killua's scars of the past weren't as obvious as the genuine emotion going full display on his face, right at this very moment. Wide, puzzling sapphire hues and a small mouth, fumbling with a frown; all of it so open publicly that anyone passing up this chance to see it was missing something special alright.

 

Palm; a woman who'd watch the steady decline of people's sanity fall into the pits of Hell during this dark day and age, appreciated that little bit of light shining through the dark. Regardless of its size.

 

Not saying anything, she leaned forward to Killua's height and ruffled up his shaggy mane of hair; earning a string of quiet protests, and walked back out the door without a word. Because, in her opinion, no more words needed to be said as long as he kept up the pace he was moving towards. Nobody should question a person once-heartless and made of steel, finally digging free that vulnerable shell of theirs and start picking at the cracks which have formed with a new found curiosity on how they got there and what lies beneath them.

 

 _It's a good thing_ , Palm had said to Kurapika when they last crossed paths, _That he's finally opening up. I'm glad it's with you two._

 

 _I know._ Kurapika smiled. Palm swooned in his presence, the blonde chuckling lightly. _Me, too._

 

Killua stared dumbfounded at the cruddy door swinging back and forth on its last hinges where the last of Palm's frizzy black tangles had fluttered by from and tilted his head sideways, chewing on his bottom lip.

 

“What the hell is up with these people?” He voiced out loud to no one, still more lost then before, and he gave up with a sigh. He had half been expecting Palm to lose his cool at his words; to throw a temper tantrum like she normally did when he became an unbearable grouch. But, no, she just _had_ to go all motherly on him.

 

And the young fair-haired teen still couldn't sort his feelings about the situation, no matter how many times it had occurred since. He lacked the capacity to understand it, truthfully. A lack of a mother's love made his heart turn hard, he knew, but Killua thought better of himself to at least be able to grasp the concept over the years. A high intelligence level had to help in someway, right?

 

It didn't.

 

And, to top it off, Palm had the nasty and uncanny habit of going soft on him at the most inopportune instances and by the time he could reel in a proper reaction, no amount of deep, logical contemplation could solve the mystery that was Ms. Palm Siberia.

 

Heck, Killua thought he might even be able to predict _Gon_ better then he could Palm. And that was a scary thought all in itself. Gon was the king of unpredictability when he wasn't being simple-minded and brutally honest to a fault.

 

He feared for the time they may eventually cross paths.

 

“Geez. I'm surrounded by crazies.”

 

Killua combed his fingers through his pale tresses and glanced up right when the door swung open a second time. His jaw was working its way to hit the floor as Gon's jubilant smile blasted it's entrance ten fold within the background light haloing around his face. It temporarily blinded him. The warm glow poured in, thawing his cold exterior, and Killua sighed, defeated in the afterglow of his darker sanctuary, now turned glimmering.

 

“I found you, Killua!”

 

There just was no winning with this guy. He really couldn't be alone again, now could he?

 

“Hey, Gon.”

 

As Killua was turning around, Gon was running at him. The Freecs boy rushed up so fast that even his skillfully timed instincts couldn't weasel his way out of this one and a bone-crushing grip enveloped him into a hug. Killua choked on a breath and Gon was bouncing in place, not letting go, as his laugh rang in the air like a chime. Kurapika and Leorio came next to hover in the doorway, small smiles on their faces, and Killua felt his facial skin battle between turning red from embarrassment and blue from lack of air.

 

“We've been looking everywhere for you, Killua! I was going crazy! It took us awhile but we're finally all here! I didn't know this tiny boat could have so many rooms and there's people everywhere. But we stumbled on this one in the back and here Killua was! I'm glad.” Gon exclaimed, swinging Killua's poor tiny frame side to side in his big burly arms and the assassin squirmed, twitching his head anxiously. Even his exceptional strength couldn't break out of this vice. Gon was much stronger then he anticipated.

 

“G-Gon.” He wheezed, droplets kissing the corners of his blue irises, “L-let go. I can't b-breathe! Gon!” He tried to kick in vain, swinging his legs and kicking at Gon's thighs, but it didn't phase the tanned-skinned teenager because he was obviously having a grand time squeezing every ounce of oxygen out of his lungs and breaking some of his bones in the process.

 

“What did you say, Killua?” Gon joked, giggling like a little school girl, and he stopped in his chaotic swinging to stare up into Killua's eyes wearing a huge, playful grin. “I never realized how light you are. Killua should eat more. You're really skinny and tiny.”

 

Killua's eyes bulged and he started stammering, now his pale skin tone deciding on a nice shade of crimson when he really didn't need it. “S-shut up, y-you embarrassing _idiot!_ ” A hiss, like a bristling cat, and he grit his teeth, thrashing around in Gon's arms. “Let go of me right now or I swear-”

 

“-Okay.” Gon dropped him instantly and Killua fell to the floor, landing on his bottom. He groaned softly and rubbed his aching backside, casting a heated glare up at a smirking Gon. “You told me to let you go right now so I did.” He pointed out, matter-of-factually. Killua's hiss became a growl.

 

“ _Gently_ would have been nice you know. Geez.”

 

“Oops?”

 

“You're an assh-”

 

“Hey Killua.” Kurapika butt in, stepping forward with Leorio at his side. “What are you doing hiding in here anyway?”

 

“Well, obviously to get away from _you_ guys.” Killua put emphasis on the _you_ part when he glanced from Gon to Leorio and state a point.

 

“In a storage closet?”

 

“It was the most deserted place I could find!”

 

“Well. You've been caught. Now get up and let's go.” Leorio jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the open door.

 

“Go?” Killua pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his shorts with a scowl still aimed at an not-so-innocent, chuckling Gon. “Go where? Why would I go anywhere with you guys? Not after how you treated me before! No way! I'll never go with you-”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

Leorio was staring straight into Killua's eyes and the silver-haired teenager stepped back, shocked, mouth parted in a soundless gasp. The dead seriousness in those dark eyes was unwavering. _He's not kidding._ Swallowing thickly on a lump stuck in his throat, Killua pulled his lax hands into fists at his sides, teeth grit. It irked him for some reason, wondering if Leorio was too great an actor to hold up such a farce. _He can't be serious, right?_ “What the hell are you sorry for?”

 

“Look, I didn't mean to be rude back there.” The doctor amended, his head bowed slightly. “I know how you feel about the other squadron and I wasn't really thinking when I just blatantly ignored you and said those things. So, I'm sorry, Killua.”

 

As Killua made to say something, Gon raised his hand in accordance, waving it to get his attention. “I'm sorry, too! For how I was acting earlier.” He moved forward and clapped both hands onto Killua's shoulders and if it hadn't been for the bronzed palms holding him there; Killua would have jumped clear across the room to get away. He started bowing his head up and down in repeat, not stopping for a second as he begun to babble. “And for dropping you like that. And for squeezing you until your face turned blue. And for earlier when I was being an idiot; even though I really can't change that fact, but I'm still sorry! And I'm also sorry too back on the island when I stole and ate your entire bag of chips and ripped your pants in the crotch area so your underwear was showing-”

 

Killua slapped both hands over Gon's mouth, stifling the muffles of the other teen who continued to ramble on and on despite the new blockage. “G-Gon! S-shut up already!” He stuttered, the tomato red blush catching at the tips of his ears already. He turned his face away to conceal it, hiding the red color under the shadows from his bangs. “I g-get it so s-stop! I get it! I accept your a-apologies, okay? I accept! So shut up!”

 

“Pahhh.” Gon made a sound when he exhaled rather loudly, Killua's hands dropping as he sighed. “Are you okay now, Killua?”

 

“Am I okay?” He repeated Gon's question and gazed left to right from Kurapika and Leorio and the reassuring smiles they had yet to drop since stepping into this room, and finally landing on Gon who was looking expectantly at him, grinning toothily. The spotlight was still on that head of upright blackened hair, still highlighting him; like a sun that kissed the sky, marking him as something very, very special.

 

“Yeah.”

 

 _Infectious_ , Killua conceded, falling into the same step to match them; smiling himself. Maybe, just maybe, Killua could take a risk and step a little bit in that light.

 

But, just a little.

 

“I'm okay now.”

 

* * *

 

 “ _Ne, Killua.”_

 

“ _What now, Gon?”_

 

“ _Are you happy?”_

 

_Killua gaped, swinging around to face Gon who was wearing that typical face-splitting grin and couldn't help but roll his eyes, not staying too long to look less he fall into that trap again. That infectious, disease-ridden smile of Gon's which no human could resist when seeing it at first glance._

 

_You'd be smiling by the end of the day whether or not you even wanted to. It was just how Gon was, spreading smiles wherever he went, bathing any tense atmosphere in the afterglow of his giddy warmth. He was the sun, casting its light everywhere in his reflection and not a shadow in sight._

 

_Killua may always appear disgruntled by this fact, but he was really all too happy honestly._

 

_Gon was contagious._

 

“ _Well? Is Killua happy?” Gon pressed when Killua didn't immediately respond, nudging him hard in the side, and the white-haired teen almost wanted to punch him but didn't want to risk allowing Gon the privilege of seeing his steadily gathering blush. It'd give him away too easily to his fluttering, love-struck emotions and he did not need to have Gon's uncanny nosiness to be sniffing its way down his back all the time._

 

“ _O-of course I'm happy, idiot.” It took him a minute to compose himself and Killua inhaled deeply, gripping at the edges of the roof they sat upon and staring hard at the cold tiles under their bottoms. “I mean, why wouldn't I be?”_

 

“ _Well, I was just curious, that's all.” Laughed Gon, his voice bright, cheery, like bell chimes that caressed your ear drums with its blessed musical tone. Killua would listen to that sound any day over anything else. “I wanted to make sure, because, well, you make me happy.”_

 

_Blue eyes widened and Killua did swing around this time, irises wide and constricted and totally caught off guard by the bluntness that was Gon. “What..?”_

 

“ _I'm happy when I'm with you, Killua.” Gon said, again, as serious as ever._

 

“ _Are you for real? Why? How?” Killua wasn't comprehending the words that reached his head and he had to rub at his temples a few time to clear his muffled thoughts that, too, were struggling to grasp the concept that was **'you make me happy** ' from Gon. How was that even possible?_

 

_Killua killed people for a living. He fought and argued with pretty much anyone and his language was as foul as your grimiest sailors. He had a tongue that wasn't afraid to strike just like his inhumanely shaped claws were more than willing to rip out your heart at any moments notice. He was dressed in red; in blood, and black, like shadows._

 

_Killua was downright dark and dreary. How did any of that translate into happiness?_

 

“ _Because,” Gon seemed to pick up on the others distress and leaned forward, sliding a soft, warm hand underneath Killua's angular jaw line, before pulling him into a small kiss; their lips barely brushing over when Gon pulled away and left Killua sitting there, breathless but not entirely empty of air. “I love you. And being around you, being near you and doing things like this, makes me happy. I know it's been really hard lately but I'm just happy that I have Killua by my side to pull us through. That's all.”_

 

_Killua pursed his lips together, reaching up to run the tips of his fingers over it, feeling the leftover heat gathered there and swallowed. He couldn't just meet those raw, glittering golden orbs yet, eyes well hidden behind his shaggy bangs. His cheeks were burning now and he knew his face must be as bright as a tomato. “Gon.”_

 

“ _Killua.” The black-haired boy smiled, leaning forward again to cup both sides of Killua's speckled red cheeks and giggled, his mouth hovering inches from the others again. “You make me so happy, Killua.”_

 

“ _Y-you're so sappy.” Cool, sweet air fluttered over Gon's own lips and he licked them, enjoying the taste of Killua's breath on him. He watched those long eye lashes flutter shut, closing off the dazzling sapphires from view, but he knew they'd open back up sometime and he'd get to enjoy their sight again; never truly gone. “But I love you too, you sappy idiot.”_

 

“ _At least I'm your sappy idiot.”_

 

“ _Oi, Gon!”_

 

“ _Hahaha. Killua. You're funny.” The Zoldyck teen giggled and closed the distance between their lips, sealing them shut for a moment, until they were breathing nothing but each others oxygen, tasting each others flavors, and basking in each others touch. It only lasted a moment, maybe two, when they pulled away again and Killua rested his forehead onto Gon's, their fingers laced together and held tight at their sides._

 

“ _Happy Birthday, Gon.”_

 

“ _Thanks, Killua.” Gon hummed out and laughed, broad shoulders shaking like they always do when his chest rumbled with cheer. “Do we have to go back to camp and celebrate with the others now, or can we stay here a little bit longer?”_

 

“ _Hmmm.” Killua seemed to take that into thought and pulled away to tap his chin; his acting job worthy enough to look believable that Gon laughed even harder as he watched. “That is such a hard question, Gon. I'm not sure how to answer.” He turned his head side to side, humming louder-then-necessary, before he swung around and grinned ear-to-ear at Gon, navy eyes daring. “What do you think? This is your birthday. Do you want to stuff your mouth full of cake and sweets while all those sweaty soldiers cheer and hug you with their gross, smelly bodies as they congratulate you for finally turning 18?”_

 

“ _Sure.” answered Gon and Killua would have just threw himself over the edge of the roof if it wasn't for the fact they were about five stories too high for even their skills to land unscathed. “What? I want to have some cake and sweets. I'm hungry.”_

 

“ _Gon!” Killua whined and did a face palm, hand sliding down his face dramatically. He reached forward, grabbing hold of both of Gon's shoulders and leaned close enough that their noses were smashed together. “Idiot. You're supposed to say ' **No, Killua I want to stay here with you!** '”_

 

“ _But I do want to stay here with you, Killua.”_

 

“ _...” sagging until his head thudded against Gon's shoulder and audibly bellied a moan. After a minute of quiet shared between them, Killua spoke again, more confident than earlier. “Does this mean you're okay now, Gon? I mean, after everything that happened before. Are you okay?”_

 

“ _Am I okay?” Gon blinked, head tilted, then he grinned, tapping Killua's chin back up to level their stare, amber eyes brimming with honey as those sapphire ones rippled like the sea. He leaned in close, one last time, his mouth against Killua's while he spoke, chuckling. “Yeah, of course I'm okay.”_

 

_All too eager to resume their kiss, Killua pressed forward and met Gon half-way; the two settling into each others rhythm as new found strangers fated to meet would do when colliding together in a display of fireworks._

 

_It felt like magic; their chemistry, but Killua and Gon both knew it was something else entirely._

 

_Love._

 

“ _ **I'm okay now.”**_


	13. A speck of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon learns the four basic principles of Nen and their types while the four guys bond and have some fun in the meantime.
> 
> (Fluffy humor and silly, stupid bonding)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut back a lot on this chapter. It used to be super long and I just managed to cut it up enough that it wasn't excessive. This chapter can be skipped as its primarily just them discussing what the basic Nen properties is in my own personal, crazy way. There's a lot of stupid humor here and them just joking around and cracking laughs for the hell of it, because I love to see the four of them interact together. It's cute.
> 
> Picking up on the plot now so things will start speeding along after this. Thanks again for all the support, blah blah, ramble, you know the deal c: MUCH LUFF.
> 
> Enjoy.

**13**

 

The sweet, salty tang on Gon's lips was tasty. Growing up on Whale Island subjected you to the constant spray of sea and grass on your tongue, your nose, your face. It heightened your senses to the world around you; fresh, leaving a lasting impression. Your fingertips were acutely aware of the dirt and grime beneath your nails, the sweat and sheen of ocean submerging over your palms. No sooner would you rise from the earth would the water take you in; either was one in the same in your realm.

 

Gon wouldn't deny because he loved it.

 

As his fingers dangled to catch the wind whipping at the water below, hugging at the sides of their passing boat, he helplessly delighted in the feel of its cool, ticklishness on his heavily worn pads.

 

“I love being on the water.” He said, absently, ignoring the string of protests from Killua at his side during a rather rough hit of the waves against the boat. “It makes me feel at peace, you know? The smell of salt and sea in your mouth is great.”

 

“That's nice, I guess. The water does make me feel a little calm sometimes on days like these.” drawled the assassin, his eyes closed and mouth pulled in a thin line, humming to himself. He wasn't as in tune with mother nature as Gon was. His life was born in the under world; the dark and dank corners of cool, bleak back alleys and corners of fortitude and solitary confinement. Where the evil underhanded ways lead you astray, it was.

 

Killua appreciated the fact that at least some part of him clung to the edge on that point-of-no-return. Because that kept him from sinking to that forbidden level in his life; admitting that his fate may still possibly be sealed.

 

He hoped it still wasn't.

 

“How much longer until Leorio and Kurapika come back with the training tools-?”

 

“-We're back!”

 

“Never mind!” Gon laughed and greeted the two hunters with an eager wave. Leorio set down the small crate he was carrying down between them, allowing Kurapika to place the small glass down with a bottle of water and a leaf at its side. He poured the contents of the water into the glass until it was filled and gently balanced the bright, green leaf atop its wavering surface. Gon hovered like a kid in front of a window display filled with delicious sweets and candies, hands on his knees and beaming a little _too_ excitedly. “Oooooh. What's that for?”

 

Killua cocked a brow, but didn't budge from his cozy spot, head now resting on the backs of his bent arms. “You're sure skipping a lot of steps, don't you think? I thought that stage came _after_ he learned the basic principles of _Nen_. Not before.”

 

“Well, we're skipping a few steps then.” informed Kurapika, tossing the empty bottle to Leorio. “I think it's a good idea to start off with something neat to grab Gon's attention, that way he doesn't get disinterested too quick.”

 

“I guess that sounds reasonable.”

 

“Hurry up! Let's get started! Come on!” Gon was bouncing up and down on his feet, face-splitting grin barely intact as he laughed and Killua hopelessly rolled his eyes at the behavior.

 

“What are you, _four_? Calm down, Gon. You're not a kid!”

 

“Oh, come on, Killua.” A disagreeing whine, “I'm excited to learn about this _Nen_ everybody keeps going on about. I really, _realllyyyyyy_ want to know. Kurapika!” He tugged on the side of the blonde's tabard and crooned, “Can we start now? Can we? Can we?”

 

“Yes, Gon. We can start.” Kurapika chuckled bemusedly. Bubbly and bright; that was Gon for you.

 

“Gon, you are going to put your hands around the glass and very calmly emit some of your aura around it. Watch me. It goes like this.” Leorio demonstrated his own instructions by placing both of his own hands by the glass and emitting his own aura; a soft, orange and reddish hue, as the water in the glass began to shift color into a deep, vibrant yet murky yellow color.

 

“Ooooooooooh.” Gon gawked in total awe that even Killua perked up a little in surprise. “The water changed color. Now it looks like lemonade!”

 

“Are you kidding, Gon? It looks like piss-”

 

_SMACK._

 

“ _SHIT._ ”

 

Killua dodged the second chain flying his way and yowled at the big gaping hole left behind in the pathetic wooden hull of the boat. “Hanzo's going to kill you for that.” He commented, rather dryly, even in the face of the chain-user's menacing glare directed his way, nursing the small bruise on his forearm with a childish pout.

 

“Language, Killua.”

 

Instead of retorting like he usually did, Killua only poked out his tongue and huffed, turning away but keeping the corners of his navy eyes still watching. Gon leaned forward on the heels of his hands and inspected the now-yellow water with interest, prodding a finger into it and swirling the liquid around eagerly. Droplets of gold stayed put on his thumb, keeping the same glow as it did when in the glass. He was careful not to disturb the bobbing leaf on top. “How did you do that Leorio? With the water.”

 

“It's a form of water divination.” Leorio withdrew his hands, canceling out his aura and the yellow tint the water carried also. Gon's face dropped a little in disappointment, but perked up again when Leorio's finger rose in the air, saying, “If you push your aura around the glass, it changes the properties of the water. It's like some old, weird trick people used to use to define _Nen_ types, or something crazy like that.”

 

Kurapika shooed Leorio away so he could bring his own hands forward, settling them at the sides of the glass. “What he means to say is, Gon, that this is an ancient technique used back then that allowed others to discover their _Nen_ type. Every person is born with one and there are six types in total. By knowing your own _Nen_ type, a person can better develop their powers and abilities to suit their own style.”

 

“I'm an Emitter.” Leorio spoke up, chest swelling with pride. Killua laughed obnoxiously from the side, not the least bit deterred by Leorio's dagger-filled stare. “Which means I can emit or shoot out my _Nen_ away from my body. It changes the color of the water when I do it. I just use my _Nen_ mainly for healing, since I can transmit my aura to stimulate others into healing themselves. That's kind of the only purpose I've ever thought my _Nen_ would be of use for, anyway. And to punch a certain _someone_ when he is misbehaving is a major bonus when he least expects it.” He stuck out his tongue and challenged Killua's own mimicked response, Kurapika sighing in the background.

 

“Wow. So cool.” Gon was squirming in place when Kurapika started next. As soon as his calm, serene reddish energy swallowed it up, large glossy blotches began to form at the bottom of the water, solidifying and piling together like a bunch of rocks. “Ooooh. Those are pretty! Like shiny gems or stars.”

 

“They got bigger since the last time you did that.” Killua giggled from the sidelines, “Unfortunately your height didn't.”

 

The white-haired teen ducked just in time to avoid another whip lashing from a fist-full of chains, smashing another good-sized hole in the ship. Hanzo would surely be furious by this point.

 

“I'm a Conjurer.” The blonde's lip twitched and he smiled down at an ogling Gon who's primary focus was the shiny foreign things resting on the glass bottom. “Which grants me the ability to create things out of my aura. When I emit my aura to the glass, it makes impurities form in the water, like the things you're seeing right now inside of it, because being a Conjurer gives me the power to create something.”

 

“You can make things out of thin air? What kind of things?” Gon lit up like a firework, eyes wide, mouth parted, and he leaned uncomfortably close to Kurapika out of sheer curiosity.

 

Killua bent forward to stare into the water, too, tapping it and causing the strange starry things to shift about. “Anything, Gon. You can create anything within reason, if you're really that skilled anyway. It's impossible to create some things though, like living people for instance. That's just out of our league, especially for somebody like _Kurapika_.”

 

“You'd be surprised.” Leorio appeared perturbed, frowning. “Kurapika's got talent and skill you'd have to spend years dreaming about to reach, _Killua._ ”

 

“Lee-oreo.”

 

“Kihaha.”

 

“Oiroel.”

 

“The hell does that even mean?”

 

“Your name backwards.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Pushing on the bridge of his nose, Kurapika released his hold on the _Nen_ producing those make-shift stars and Gon visibly deflated a little at their disappearance. “Awe. Those were really pretty, too.”

 

“Thank you, Gon.” The Kurta smiled graciously, his right hand raised to flash the set of chains in full display. Golden irises reflected the shiny metal within them, retracted by the light. “For my conjuring ability, I picked chains. It took me several months to master this, but I can create multiple chains that each hold different abilities on their own. It's quite useful.”

 

“Why chains though?” asked Gon, his itching fingers just millimeters from touching those metal links, but he restrained himself.

 

“I think that explanation is better left for another time. It's rather long.” Kurapika chortled. Gon audibly whined his disapproval. “Killua, will you do the honors?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I'm next.” Bemoaning his disinterest, Killua lazily pulled his hands up and dropped them onto the pathetic excuse for a make-shift table. The glass dinged and almost tipped if it hadn't been for Gon's quick reaction timing, grabbing and saving the day with a smirk. “You're really weird, you know that, right Gon?”

 

“Yep.”

 

With a roll of his blue eyes, Killua activated his own aura; a spark ringing through the air as his cottony, vibrant indigo color took precedence against the mirror-like reflective glass. Gon swore the hairs on his neck suddenly stood up on end because of it; even the little bit of hair on his arms was getting tingly in Killua's presence. Whatever he was feeling from Killua, felt ominous. Strong. Electrifying.

 

_Dark._

 

Only one minute in, and the water had yet to shift or change as far as Gon could decipher. He stared, leaning forward dramatically on his hands and narrowed his beady golden orbs so close his nose almost touched the glass if Killua didn't smack him in the shoulder to grab his attention.

 

“Don't lean so close, idiot! I'm trying to concentrate. I can't work if you stick your damn nose in the water, sheesh.”

 

“Ouch! That was mean Killua.” Gon whimpered, nursing a budding bruise, and Killua's annoyed expression looked rather funny, really, for someone trying really hard not to break that completely focused expression of his. “You're taking too long, that's why. Hurry up!”

 

“Shut up and I will!”

 

“Fine! I'll shut up!”

 

“Good!”

 

“Yeah, good!”

 

Snorting to themselves very loudly, the two teenagers both scowled at the water with looks of utmost concentration and Kurapika and Leorio couldn't help but laugh quietly at the side lines. Gon was just a foot away from the glass, his cheeks puffed out in a pout and his eyes so narrowed and hard that he might as well stab the object with them. Killua wore a matching set of his own; brow pushed down towards the bridge of his nose and jaw tight and tense with determination.

 

_Kids._

 

“There. I'm done.” Killua pulled back after a long pause, releasing a quiet, heartfelt sigh. His smug grin grew and he never looked more proud of himself then he did now. “It's ready.”

 

“Uh. Killua.” Gon started in, face dropping disappointingly, “Nothing happened. The water looks exactly the same.”

 

An irritable twitch didn't go unnoticed. “Well, it's _not_ the same so shut up and taste it already, dumb ass. Find out for yourself what I did before you judge.”

 

Picking up the small glass, Gon sniffed at the water first off. Kurapika made a face and Leorio was, somehow, still laughing. “Really, Gon? You're going to smell it first?”

 

The tanned-skinned male was the only one who didn't appear phased by his own instinctual behavior, shrugging off to the side. “Well, yeah. That's what I always do when someone tells me to taste something. I smell it first.”

 

“You're a dog, idiot.”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

All three men gaped silently in Gon's direction and he shrugged again, smiling, as he tipped the cool object to his lips and took a sip of the water. He was beaming seconds after he had the first drink, eyes large like dinner plates and lips parted in an 'o', now giddy.

 

“It tastes sweet! Like honey!”

  
“Well, duh. That's what its supposed to be.” Killua folded his arms in front of his chest; his ego larger then his brain, and the pair of older adults each dipped a finger into the water and tasted it for themselves.

 

“It's gotten much more sweeter then it was last time.” commented Kurapika, licking the flavor from his lips with a hum.

 

Leorio was dipping his digits in more thoroughly after the first bit, snickering happily in satisfaction. “Yeah. Way better then when you first did it. That stuff tasted awful and sour.”

 

“ _Screw you too!_ ”

 

“But, wait.” Gon set down the glass and ran his thumb along the rim of it, peering into the reflecting surface, “Isn't this just plain water?”

 

Kurapika shook the empty bottle with a nod. “Yes. I borrowed some from our drinking water storage. It's as plain and ordinary as you'll find it.”

 

“Then how did you make it become sweet? It really tastes like honey. Or pure sugar almost!”

 

“I'm a Transmuter.” The Zoldyck assassin sniggered, his lips curled upward on their own accordance and he raised his right hand to eye level. There was a soft, barely audible crackling sound, before neon turquoise bolts began to dance back and forth around his hand. Gon shrunk back in shock and relaxed the moment Killua pulled the pirouetting light into a more confined space between just two fingers. Gon recognized the jittery feel the closer he leaned in to inspect this abrupt change in atmosphere and calmed in dawning realization.

 

“You can make lightning.”

 

“Yeah.” Killua giggled, oddly amused by Gon's interpretation. “Transmuters can change the properties of their aura into something out of the norm. For instance, I can make mine transform itself into electricity. So when I press it to someone...” He moved his hand in a flash and the two fingers brushed over Gon's skin on his bare arm, eliciting a loud, startled gasp from the teenager who flung himself back and away automatically. “I can zap them.”

 

“Ooooh.” After collecting himself, Gon didn't seem to be disturbed by the initial shock and scooted even closer to Killua now, rocking in place. “That is so cool! Killua is like an electric eel!”

 

Killua hissed after he punched Gon in the same place he zapped, earning a pitiful whimper from the Freecs teen. His scarlet red cheeks of embarrassment were plain as day on a pale face such as his. “That's a terrible comparison, idiot!”

 

“Haha. No better then what I compared you to when I first saw it.” Leorio butt in, his sinister smile portraying his every bad intention.

 

“Oi, I'm not a stinking battery, crusty sack of wrinkles, so lay off!”

 

“You are if I can put my electronics close enough to you and still get enough juice to run them without a wall plug. It's much better then the portable generators they make on today's market! And do you know how much I saved on my electric bill? Hundreds!”

 

“Next time I see a single one of your electronics I am going to blow them into a thousand pieces and I hope you're close enough that they fry you, too.”

 

“At least I wouldn't need a recharge after that.”

 

“ _Fuck_ you-”

 

“ _Eh hem._ ” Kurapika cleared his throat, rapping a fist against the wooden box in the center to garner their attention. Only Gon and Killua turned his way. “Now Gon can take his turn and-”

 

“-Hey, I just remembered something. At least Killua can use his lightning _Nen_ to power that huge stash of vibrators he has hidden in his-”

 

_ZAP._

 

Killua would easily admit if asked how pleased he was seeing the roasted version of Leorio Paladiknight laying crumpled and smoldering at his side, convulsing a little. The clank of iron rubbing on iron perked his hyper-sensitive ears to attention and Killua made a move to say something, anything, before he was thoroughly thrashed by Kurapika's _Nen_ -chains, throwing him over onto his back with a groan.

 

“I'm not even going to ask or think about any of that right now.” The Kurta said, voice controlled, emotionless. “I'm just going to pretend none of this has happened and _Gon_ ,” He glanced the other teen's way, causing him to jump in place out of pure fear, “Will take his turn and show us what _Nen_ type user he is. Won't you, Gon?”

 

“H-haiii.. I'm on it.”

 

As soon as everyone and Kurapika means _everyone_ was back in their normal, civilized and well-behaved positions, he gestured for Gon to proceed. Placing both of his tanned hands forward, Gon inhaled a deep, steady breath to calm his wired heart beat. He'd best left it secret that he wasn't feeling a massive adrenaline rush at the prospect of finding out his true power; what he was really capable of. Gon never thought of himself as being more then a wild, untamed free-spirit. He thrived, _lived_ on the woods, the forest, the trees; the animal and plant life his kin. To imagine himself as something other then just, well, _Gon Freec_ s, was out of his league.

 

He wouldn't say no to not trying. However, every image he's come up with always left him returning to his previous spot, a stand still in time. An infinite loop of running in circles; that is, Gon never quite made it past a certain point in his life that spoke; told him, that he was capable of so much more then who he was now. Helping out the elderly on Whale Island with their daily chores, assisting his aunt and grandma with every day life; just existingand surviving in a world, self-taught to the ways of being alive in a world filled with animals, with floral, with _people._

 

The anticipation that has built within him, finding out he had more then just a purpose of being _there_ ; gave Gon hope. Like a light in the dark; lingering in the depths of shadows.

 

Gon sought for that sun.

 

“Here I go, then.” Gon exhaled, fingers splayed along the sides. His eyes drooped shut and he controlled his breathing until it was nothing but a slow, quiet hum in the back of his throat; a hint of a rumbling vibration in his chest. The bated breaths of those around him stilled, waiting patiently.

 

It took Gon awhile to grasp the idea of 'harnessing' your own aura, as he reached out internally to touch it, feel it, and let it envelope him in its warmth. Gon felt like it was having a second skin; a warm, coating of mucus clinging to the outside of his flesh, flickering and pleasant on the inside. It wasn't sticky or slimy, gross or itchy like he thought it might be when wearing something you're not used to; like a new article of clothing fresh from the racks. No, this was so much more familiar; like something he'd been wearing since birth, an outer layer but not. It was almost intimate, one with his being; like being locked in a passionate embrace with oneself. Gon recognized the feeling as soon as he brushed against it yet this was the first time he had ever intentionally sought it out, so it was a new feeling all the same.

 

He rather liked it, actually. This mysterious, hidden power delved deep into the depths of his soul.

 

_Nen._

 

A burst of energy met him half-way in the contact, exploding to life at the points of his fingertips and spreading out until it encompassed his entire form in its ethereal glow. An orange-gold color; like fire, flickered into existence and Gon beamed, proud and accomplished. His personal aura coloration suited him. A boy hidden in forest green, bathed by a determined flame.

 

Holding his hands closer towards the glass, he concentrated at the see-through material with an intensity to match the distinct flare of his own _Nen._ He could see his own gaze mirroring back. It took Gon only a second to capture the glass in his personal glow, sealing it in gold and copper color, before the water in the glass shifted; just once, and began to overflow off the edge in strong, pushing waves while the leaf remained afloat on top rocking side to side like a boat caught in a storm. Watching the water tide over in constant powerful strokes somehow felt extremely exhilarating; like the movement was mimicking his own inner strength. It was something akin to a tsunami and a hurricane bolstered into one; _chaotic_ , and Gon couldn't pull his eyes away from the display of _Nen_ power for anything in the world.

 

“Ooooh, so cool. _Kakuii!_ ”

 

Gon was so engrossed in the water's startling transformation that he didn't pay attention to the frantic, blurred shouts around him, telling him to stop; _begging_ him to quit really. It took both Kurapika and Killua's grappling arms to pry him off and Leorio to save the day when he grabbed the object of his attention away and break his line of intense concentration thoroughly and extensively.

 

“Awr. But I was doing so good.” The young man pouted, lower lip puffed out dramatically, and the blonde hunter sighed as he dropped Gon's limp arm back onto the make-shift table. “Why'd we stop?”

 

“You were spilling water everywhere, Gon. Did you want to sink this pathetic piece of junk or what?” Killua hissed, nudging Gon hard in the side.

 

“Killua. The boat's not going to sink from just a little bit of water.” Leorio's eyes shifted back to the mass of liquid drenching the entire box and puddling at the sides by their feet with a disgruntled gulp, “Well, at least not a bucket-full anyway. But at the rate you were going Gon, you might just have filled this place up. You were making the glass gush out water really dang fast.”

 

“Is that a bad thing?” Uneasiness settled in over excitement, honey-eyes sagging like Gon's broad shoulders, “I'm sorry. I should have stopped.”

 

Kurapika reassuringly patted the tan teen on the shoulder, smiling positively to ward the negativity creeping at bay. “It's alright, Gon. You got excited and there's nothing wrong with that. And, now we know what _Nen_ user you are, too, so congratulations. You're an Enhancer.”

 

“An Enhancer? Is that good?”

 

“That's the most balanced category of _Nen_ -users there is, Gon. Which, I guess is a good thing since you're new to _Nen_. Hanzo's an Enhancer, too. Maybe he'll give you some tips!” Leorio wiggled his index finger back and forth as he set the glass back down in the center of the table.

 

“Since you're an Enhancer, that leaves two other categories that we didn't get to discuss. Manipulators; who can manipulate and control other objects or things with their aura, and Specialists; who are of their own unique class and have unique abilities that don't fit in with the remaining five types. Out of all of them though, Enhancer is typically the most well-wounded of all of them; so you'll be well versed between offense and defense in a battle. That's a pretty good type for a beginners, so you should be happy.” informed Kurapika, towel drying the water from around and on top of the box; Gon's face nothing but sheer curiosity as he listened.

 

“What can Enhancers do then?”

 

“They enhance things, moron.” The assassin's mocking laugh graced the air, grinning toothily in Gon's direction. “Like your strength or your defense or other objects. Whatever the hell you want to be stronger, you can make it so. You can even enhance objects as far as I've seen. That's why it's called _Enhancer_ for a reason. You just enhanced the water if you didn't notice so that it was overflowing.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“What do you mean 'oh'?!”

 

“That's awesome!”

 

Killua's palm slapped to his face, groaning miserably behind it as he sunk in place. He didn't think he could sink any lower until Gon spoke up again, right after.

 

“Ne, ne, Killua! Does that mean I can enhance like my muscles to make myself super buff? Or my legs go super fast? Oh, oh! If I can enhance things-” A cheeky smirk wormed his way and Killua could see every single _perverted_ intention behind it; mortification drawing in as Gon leaned in real close to whisper not-so-quietly to everyone around him, “-can I enhance my penis-”

 

“HOLY _SHIT,_ WHAT THE _FUCK_ GON!?”

 

“I WAS ONLY KIDDING!”

 

“....” Leorio and Kurapika both shared a look, wide-eyed and jaws loose on their hinges, hanging on by a thread, and Killua realized that; yes, it is possible to sink lower then the bottom of the scratchy planks in the scrap heap of a boat.

 

And that's exactly what he did, too, taking two strung out-shocked speechless adults with him. Because, if Killua was going down, he certainly wasn't going down alone.

 

This was all the confirmation they needed to know Gon's last shreds of apparent innocence left intact was indeed, _long gone._

 

* * *

  

“ _Ten. Zetsu. Ren. Hatsu._ ”

 

“Ten. Zetsu. Ren. Hatsu.”

 

Gon repeated after Kurapika as he pointed to each labeled name one right after the other, his eyes following the small stick the chain-user aimed appropriately at the scrawny piece of paper covered in sloppy scribbles.

 

“Yes, Gon. Correct. There are four main principles to _Nen_ and there's even more branching off from those, but we'll stick with the first four to get started. We'll begin with _Ten_ and then go from there. Leorio, will you start?”

 

Clearing his throat, Leorio rose to his feet in front of Gon; slightly hunched over in the cramped, tiny space of a room they picked just to practice in quiet and _somewhat_ secrecy. They were about one hour away and everyone was already antsy the closer they approached, preparing for the upcoming duel ahead. That meant the boat was bustling with activity and if they wanted Gon to focus on learning _Nen_ properly, they needed someplace secluded.

 

The small, itty bitty storage shack Killua had taken hiding in earlier would have to do.

 

“ _Ten_ ,” Leorio inhaled as his quiet, calm aura took to the air, flowing serenely around his body in fluid, even motions, “Is what people use to keep their aura from leaving their body too fast. Since, when you first open up the nodes in your body that suppress and contain your _Nen_ , your aura starts seeping out like crazy. You use and master _Ten_ to keep it inside of you.”

 

“When you're using _Ten,_ you're just encasing your body in your aura instead of letting it go all out bat-shit crazy and placing yourself into an earlier grave.” Killua offered from the sidelines, arms crossed before his chest.

 

Gon's face twisted up in concern as he looked from Killua to Leorio still breathing quietly while he maintained the same neutral emission of his own _Nen._ “What do you mean by an early grave? Does that mean I will die?”

 

“Well, yeah. It means you'd die quicker, Gon-”

 

“-What Killua really _means_ to say, Gon,” Kurapika interrupted, shooting a glare the others way that went ignored, “Is that if you expend too much of your aura at one given time, you can die. Aura is like your life energy. Everyone can make it and everyone always lets out a little bit, even unintentionally, throughout their lifetime. _Nen_ -users, or in this case, _Hunters_ are the people who learn to utilize it, like I said before during our first meeting with Hanzo. But they all train to make sure they never expend all of it, thus preventing themselves from dying too soon. At the same time, they unleash an unlimited amount of possible abilities and physical and mental capabilities that one couldn't unlock without knowing _Nen._ ”

 

“They said by knowing _Ten_ , a person can maintain their natural youth and thus appear and feel younger, longer. Like it slows the aging process of something, the better your _Ten_ is.” Leorio laughed, squinting one eye open as he maintained a very relaxed, normal posture; hands dangling at his sides, body straight.

 

“Guess that means Leorio really fails in the _Ten_ category then.” Killua smirked triumphantly.

 

“SCREW YOU TOO, BRAT.”

 

Killua formed a mock-heart with his hands shaped thusly before he violently ripped his hands apart and crushed them, laughing. The veins that popped out of Leorio's skulls were as prominent as the angry rage written clear upon his snarling face. His aura surged, startling Gon at the ferocious waves that were admitting from a once-peaceful, kind-hearted man.

 

Somehow, it terrified him to see Leorio in such a state he wasn't used to seeing.

 

Chuckling out of nowhere as he sweat-dropped, Gon quickly rose to his feet and came to stand between the two men, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly while he blocked their visual paths from crossing. “H-Hey Leorio-san! Will you show me how to use _Ten_ now? I want to learn how to do it, too. Please? I'm really, really curious. Show me!”

 

This seemed to distract the doctor enough, because he relaxed and nodded, gesturing to Gon to stand beside him. Gon brightened when Leorio's aura calmed down, returning to that pleasant, lazy motion it was doing before. “Just do what I'm doing and stand as natural as possible. Whatever position makes you feel the most comfortable.”

 

“It's said that standing as normal as a human being can stand is the best way in maintaining one's _Ten._ ” Kurapika added. Gon mimicked Leorio's stance with his head hung low, eyes shut, hands dangling by his hips, and he was breathing steady and slowly. The golden hues shimmering off his body automatically retracted and matched the timing of his own breaths; passive waves rolling along him like the sea. “Yeah, like that Gon.”

 

“There you go.” Leorio hummed thoughtfully, head bobbing in agreement. “You're doing pretty good for your first time.”

 

“Thanks!”

 

Killua giggled with a roll of his eyes, waving his hand dismissively for no reason. “Gon's pretty much already mastered _Ten_ , obviously. I mean, the guy walks in with his aura all relaxed and controlled from the first time we met. If he didn't know how to use _Ten_ he would have been dead when we found him. Shouldn't you be teaching him the other stuff first instead of wasting your time on relearning something he already has mastered?”

 

“True. But it's still mandatory he at least _knows_ what he's already learned to do naturally.” sighed Kurapika, focus never leaving the two men at ease as their auras flowed in sync, quiet and motionless in their spots. “And besides, one can never truly _master Ten._ Even with years of meditation and practice, a person's _Ten_ can keep growing forever. It's also the best defense against emotional _Nen_ attacks, too, even if _Ten_ doesn't provide any protection physically.”

 

“What's an emotional _Nen_ attack?”

 

“It's when somebody tries to use their _Nen_ to emotionally hurt you. Like they use their _Nen_ to scare you or something by making it appear frightening or foreboding.” Leorio muttered, shoulders flexing, “It's supposed to freak out people and deal psychological damage without using physical force to harm someone.”

 

“Could you show me how to do that sometime, Leorio?” Gon glanced up at the medical hunter, happy to finally see a small smile on those thin lips of his again.

 

“Hm? Of course I can, Gon.” chuckled Leorio, reaching up to ruffle at the mass of spiky black locks that refused to stay down. “Though you shouldn't worry about learning something like that really. It's kind of stupid and pointless when you can justify things with words and action instead of using dumb, scary stuff like that.”

 

“I guess so. Have you ever used it on someone before?”

 

“Once. And I kind of regret it, actually. I think it left me more scared then anything.”

 

“Yeah. He was pretty lousy at it anyway.” Killua interrupted and even Kurapika shot him a glare alongside Leorio's own heated one. “Couldn't even scare a fly let alone make another dude shit his pants with that look let alone that aura.”

 

“No one asked for your opinion!”

 

“No, you didn't. I just wanted to give it regardless.”

 

“Well, shut up. Can't you see we're trying to concentrate?!”

 

“Killua.” Gon's voice drowned out over Leorio's agitated, hoarse gasps for air, and he stared pitifully in the albino's direction. “Have you ever done it before?”

 

Obviously taken aback by such a question being directed at him, Killua gawked and shied away, immediately hiding his face under his bangs while he looked the opposite way. “No. No way. Nope. Never.”

 

“You're lying.”

 

“Am not!”

 

“Are too.”

 

“No!”

 

“Yes!”

 

“ _NO!_ ”

 

“ _YES!_ ”

 

“ _BOYS._ ” Kurapika shouted against their scrabbling and gestured his own way, pointing back at the chart. “Can we move onto the next thing before we run out of time? As much as I'd like to let you two argue it out, we're going to land soon and Gon needs to know these four basic principles before he fights.”

 

“Fine.” Both Killua and Gon resented, heads bowed disgracefully. Leorio took his seat near Kurapika and Gon walked back towards the middle, eyeballing the hastily drawn out words there.

 

“ _Zetsu_ ,” The blonde began anew, stepping towards Gon, “Is similar to _Ten,_ only that instead of just suppressing the amount of aura you're emitting; you're stopping the flow altogether. Think of it like twisting off the valve that lets water run out from the sink. That's _Zetsu._ ”

 

Drawing in his own deep, big breath of oxygen, Kurapika planted his feet firmly to either side, fists clenched at the center of his robe with his chin held at eye level. Gon watched with rapt anticipation as the light shining in those gray eyes darkened; leaving his irises a shadowed version of their former selves, almost black in color. As the glow faded from Kurapika's eyes so did the crystal-clear energy around his body, until that, too, faded from sight.

 

It almost felt as if Kurapika disappeared and yet did not, right before him. He was invisible; Gon's inner self said, but, he's _still_ here.

 

“I can't feel Kurapika at all.” said Gon, walking forward to tap Kurapika in the shoulder, just for some proof that he really hadn't disappeared from view like his own senses were alerting to him right about now. “And yet you're still here. How did you do that?”

 

“ _Zetsu_ hides your _Nen._ ” spoke Leorio, copying Kurapika's demeanor and he too, soon ghosted those footsteps and rendered himself undetectable, even while still in their general presences. His eyes took on a murky brown, a hazed up fog that shed no light in them, just like Kurapika's. “By stopping the flow of aura from your nodes, you prevent it from coming out of your body. This makes it so it's harder for people who use _Nen_ to track others, to detect you. It also helps keep somebody from getting too tired from fatigue because you're not expending energy to maintain your aura. But, the bad thing is that-”

 

“-it also leaves you exposed and vulnerable to attacks. You're highly susceptible to a _Nen_ attack and even a small, light punch backed by _Nen_ can prove fatal. You're pretty much rendered defenseless the second you shut off your aura so using _Zetsu_ should be done with extreme caution. It's best suited for either a quick getaway or when you need to pull a surprise attack on an enemy.” finished Kurapika, regaining his breath and light as they slowly sunk back into life. His eyes returned to normal, color becoming bright again, and his aura licked at the creases of his body just like before. Leorio followed suit and Gon sighed out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding the entire time.

 

“ _Zetsu_ kind of reminds me when I went hunting out in the forest, trying to find myself some meals to eat in my spare time. I had to hide my presence from other animals in order to catch them, so I kind of got the idea from what you're showing me. It's all about maintaining your composure during a stressful situation, even if that means you're relaxing and becoming lifeless and still, right? Like a statue.”

 

“Right.”

 

Nodding his head, Gon squared his shoulders and sucked in some oxygen, shutting his eyes for a moment. He focused on all the times he went hunting back in Whale Island; how he felt when tailing his prey. He remembered what it was like to have the rustling leaves tickle at his calves when he knelt down, bent and hidden by tall bushes and thorny brushes lining clearings that always held the best catch before daybreak. He recalled the many scratches and scrapes he concurred whenever he climbed into high trees when trying to spot his lunch from afar; how it felt to have the branches rub at his brow or the back of his head. Or, all the times he had dirt caked on his knees for days, the dust and rocks kissing at his skin, still slick with nervous, but giddy sweat.

 

The adrenaline rush; above all, was what Gon easily zoned in on, what he understood best when stalking what you were hunting. The feeling of building apprehension, rising in his chest, his throat and mouth; pumping fervently through his veins like new blood.

 

A stirring within him like natural instinct grew and subsided fast and all that was left was Gon, standing motionless and silent as his aura took on the familiar lack of sheen; golden irises now a putrid, fogged up chestnut color.

 

“Nice.” Killua commented from afar, wearing a sly grin. “You took that up pretty fast. See? What did I tell you, guys? Gon's a natural.”

 

With a roll of his eyes, Leorio waved his hand in the air and chuckled. “Okay Gon, that's good. You can stop now.”

 

Exhaling deeply, the Freecs boy sighed and his aura shot back to the now, calmly settling onto to his body like a second skin. Brown glossed right back into their usual amber glow and Gon brightened as he bounced in place a moment, grinning broad. “ _Yes_! That's two down and two more to go.” He did a little fist pump for emphasis.

 

Kurapika laughed at Gon's miraculous ability to remain exuberant and upbeat like a typical kid his age should be; a kid not ravaged by the effects of a warring era just yet.

 

“Alright, Gon. Next is _Ren._ Killua, mind taking over on this one?”

 

“Sure.” The white-haired teenager pushed himself to his feet and did a few stretches of his arms before he cracked his knuckles and was standing next to Gon with a smirk. “Better back off a bit, Gon. _Ren_ is pretty serious stuff.” The tanner of the two nodded and retreated a few steps back before Killua flexed his hands out. He only needed ten seconds to activate his _Ren_ into full view and the room exploded with magnificent purple and blue colors as his aura danced around his form, larger then it had been earlier. It was billowing, crackling like a peel of thunder, and Gon could clearly see the sparks of white pirouetting in his _Nen_ , down his legs and up his arms, straight to his head.

 

The hairs on Gon's neck were standing on end again, sharp and edged by the magnetic force radiating off that lithe, pale and pristine form of the Zoldyck assassin. He stepped towards it, feeling the irresistible pull. The way those lustrous, dark hues contrasted against his porcelain skin was heavenly in a way; angelic, and left Gon standing breathless in its presence. The power gleamed in his mind, its brilliance like a rare gem; priceless.

 

Gon wished to see, to feel; to _experience_ , more of this, then he would ever want to know of his own power, his own abilities, that was for certain.

 

Killua lifted his hands high above his head in another stretch and giggled, both brows raised curiously towards Gon's intensive staring for the past minute his _Ren_ had been going off nonstop. “What? It's pretty cool, huh?”

 

“Yeah. You're pretty.” Gon said without even thinking and Killua's flustered, untimely response as he flailed forward and out of balance, his powerful burst of _Ren_ broken, was laughable but Gon; in all his own seriousness, appeared unshaped and unblinking. “And cool!”

 

“G-Gon!” spat the youngest teen, seething. Leorio and Kurapika were hooting with laughter in the background only making Killua's blush even more prominent. “You _freak_! That's embarrassing! Don't say things like that! G-geez. Have you no shame?”

 

“Why not? They're true. You're really pretty-”

 

“ _FUCK GON._ ”

 

“What!?”

 

“Just _shut_ up!”

 

Gon sighed, puzzled at why he was being yelled at, but shrugged and silenced himself; waiting as Killua forcefully tried to compose himself and his _Ren_ ignited once more. It was like a blue fire; cold and calculating, yet destructive and untamed.

 

“ _Ren_ is like the direct application of _Ten._ Instead of just allowing your aura to leak needlessly from you, _Ten_ and _Ren_ work together to maintain itself around the body. _Ten_ is like the defensive version and _Ren_ is the attacking one. It unleashes a high output of your aura while keeping it from just pointlessly leaving. It bolsters your physical strength and durability and allows you to utilize more aura when attacking, so it's very versatile to have a strong _Ren_ when in battle.” Kurapika instructed again, pointing at different parts of Killua's body without getting too close. “Like, for instance, if you use _Ren_ to power up your fists, your punches will become stronger. The same applies to any part of your body, too.”

 

“ _Ren_ tempers or intensifies your will. So you're putting _Ten_ ; your goal, and _Zetsu_ , your drive; into a firmly locked mindset and preparing to do _Hatsu_ ; which is to put something into words. It's the final step to utilizing _Nen_ properly.” added Leorio towards the end, pushing his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose.

 

“Oooh.” Gon's mouth formed an 'o' and he nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. It's like a series of steps in a math problem with your final attack being the answer, right?”

 

“Exactly. _Ren_ refines and enhances your building _Nen_ for the last step in executing your moves. _Hatsu_ is what puts everything together and solves it, leaving you with your attack. So when Killua places everything together he gets-”

 

“-My _Hatsu._ ” A crackle and icy bolts of lightning bounced around his hand like a halo, jumping every which way in a small, self-imposed radius; as he held it up to eye level with a growing smirk. His _Ren_ aura shifted, becoming more icy, until it eventually mutated into the same sparks encompassing his hand, and his entire being was surrounded in a ring of wild, stampeding electricity. It was becoming so dense, so overwhelming; that a small patch of lightning ricocheted off his back and snagged the nearest light bulb that was keeping the room just barely lit and effectively smashed the object to bits and leaving them now in pitch blackness.

 

Two knowing groans hit the air.

 

“Damnit. Not this crap, again.”

 

“Really? Now? It had to happen now? I thought you could control yourself better, Killua?”

 

“Hehe. Oops. I'm just that strong I guess.”

 

“ _'I guess.'_ You're so damn cocky, Killua. Don't go _oops_ either because no one is buying it! You did that on purpose didn't you!? Smug asshole!”

 

“Oi, what makes you think that, _Leechio._ ”

 

“That doesn't even make sense!”

 

“I think _I'm_ the one who's really surrounded by idiots, in all actuality.”

 

There was some shuffling, then.

 

“Hey! Leorio, Kurapika, Killua! I think I found the door knob! Let me just turn it and-”

 

Then, an inhumanely girlish squeal.

 

“ _OH MY GOD. SOMEONE'S GRABBING MY ASS.”_

 

“Serves you right, haha!”

 

“Gon, you do know door knobs are really small objects, right?”

 

“Uhm, well, yeah.”

 

“And what you're probably grabbing right now is really big, right?”

 

“Yeah- ...Ohhhhh.”

 

“LET GO OF MY ASS YOU FREAK.”

 

“Is that what I'm touching then? Because it's really squishy-”

 

“ _FUCKING CHRIST. GON._ STOP SQUEEZING IT.”

 

“HAHA I'm going to bust a lung here! HAHAHA.”

 

The nearby door slammed open suddenly, blasting the room ablaze with the light filtering in from the hallway. The group of four all cringed and shared a simultaneous hiss in the afterglow, unable to face such bright light so soon and eyes not remotely prepared to adjust this early. There, in the entryway, stood Hanzo; the biggest of snickers on his face.

 

“Hey, you guys, you'll never guess what I-!”

 

He stopped, pausing to glance between the four of them until his eyes finally landed on that fateful bronzed pair of hands squeezing hold of a small, plush round rump held out in full display for the room's spectators to see.

 

Right in the center of everything.

 

Hanzo opened his mouth once, moved it up and down a few times in silence, and then promptly slammed the door shut without a word. They went straight back to darkness.

 

“FUCK YOU TOO, HANZO!”

 

Kurapika and Leorio certainly did bust a lung or two thereafter and Killua; in all his infinite, cherry-red flushed glory, beat their comrades black and blue and added on another list of injuries they successfully acquired in one sitting. It still didn't stop them from laughing however.

 

Gon was the only one who, strangely, thought the whole incident was somehow worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I firmly believe Hanzo might be an Enhancer since it's never really mentioned. SO HE'S GONNA BE BUFF HAHAHA *shot*
> 
> Kihaha comes from 'Chrollo Chrollo Moshi Desu' by stubman because WHAT THE HELL ITS LIKE CRAZY RANDOM FUNNY OKAY and yeah it makes sense so ehhh.
> 
> YEP.


	14. Silhouettes of a Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some concepts that are very difficult to understand at first and in Killua's case, it's friendship.
> 
> The squad finally makes head way to Zaban City with two new people just dying to greet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Likewise, thanks for the feedback as usual. It's literally what has me energized to keep writing. 8D
> 
> I have weird moments where I do these odd mental visuals or dreams or whatever you call them and that's what you get with Killua. Sorry if it makes little sense, but I'm just exploring some weird and angsty themes.
> 
> PLOT THICKENS A BUTT LOAD AFTER THIS MUHAHAHAHA.
> 
> Enjoy.

**14**

 

There was a loud, obnoxious whine, and then.

 

“I said no, Hisoka. Don't make me repeat myself.”

 

“You're no fun, Illumi. No fun at all.” The man dubbed 'Hisoka' complained, throwing himself into a pout as he lay straight-backed atop a bench. A lone bench, that might be added, was surrounded by rubble and debris as far as the eye can travel; a sea of unlivable ruins now. This bench just so happened to be one of many few things to survive the destruction and Hisoka was more then willing to steal it for himself, however long he chose to lay there that is in an ocean of bones and corpses, blood and dirt.

 

“I'm not supposed to be fun.” Illumi; as Hisoka called him, said flatly while he brushed some of his long, cascading ebony locks away from a set of hollow, empty charcoal eyes. Even his pupils did not show; they were just too dark to discern from. “This is our job. People do not have fun when they're working. People should be taking their jobs very seriously.”

 

“That depends on what kind of job it is, then.” Hisoka thrust a finger into the air, drawing invisible shapes and patterns above his head with his eyes closed, “Because last time I remembered, some jobs can be _extremely_ fun.”

 

“If you're referring to our earlier job, that was the least bit pleasant. Chimera Ants are insufferable creatures that really have no right to coexist with humans. The sooner they are extinguished, the sooner we can return to our previous business.”

 

“Killing _humans_ and not supernatural mutants!” The clown man with his painted white face and outrageously styled cherry-top hair was positively beaming with pride over his own words and if it were easier to tell, Illumi was rolling his eyes to this.

 

“Hisoka.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Illumi glanced down from where he stood at the side of the bench, locking gazes with stark, molten-yellow eyes, and he brought his hand back down from his hair to rub the bridge of his nose in earnest. “Shouldn't we be returning to base soon and prepare for the upcoming battle and arrival of the other squadron?”

 

“I don't wannaaa..”

 

“Hisoka.”

 

“Don't wanna.”

 

“Hisoka.”

 

“No.”

 

“Hisoka.”

 

“ _Oh f-fuck_ , right there. That's the s-spot. _Don't stop._ H-harder! Hnnnngh. Illumi. _Oh God_ , _Illumi._ ”

 

“Hisoka.”

 

“ _Hi-so-ka._ ”

 

“Hisoka.”

 

The aforementioned man did a face palm and dragged his hand dramatically down with a groan, staring up at Illumi, who, throughout the time, had yet to budge an inch or even show an ounce of changing emotion across an already emotionless face. Hisoka often remarked him to be a doll; a pristine and fine work of expert craftsmanship, that, in the process of being made, was forgotten to be given a heart and a sense of righteous, human feeling.

 

Hisoka loved that noteworthy fact about Illumi, dearly, he did.

 

“Fine. We can go back, since you so rightfully insist. Whatever makes sweet Illumi _happy._ ”

 

“I'm not happy.” Illumi spoke, voice plain like his posture; upright and rigid like he still had an iron rod shoved down his spine that was keeping him ramrod straight. Or possibly up his ass, too. He was regarded as a soldier with the carefully orchestrated march he made wherever he went and even Hisoka's constant mockery and ridicule couldn't curb that habit out of him for the world. “We should go back. This place is boring and uneventful. Why you wanted to come here is beyond me.”

 

Hisoka scrutinized Illumi with a snide, shameless grin and a quick look over. In return he got the assassin's back firmly planted his way and effectively stopping him from staring holes through Illumi's crotch if it meant he'd have needles for eyes soon. He really, _really_ loved Illumi's _Nen_ needles. A lot. In a lot of places, even. Illumi still gutted him for that, just not with his needles like he wished he would. “But I like it here. It still smells and tastes just like it did when we were done slaughtering them.”

 

“Like death, you mean.”

 

“Exactly!”

 

“I'm leaving.” Illumi didn't hesitate in the slightest to start walking away, in the same foot fall pattern he did naturally, and Hisoka was whining audibly from his spot on the bench.

 

“Awe, come on!” He swung up and over the side, doing a flare of skill as he back-flipped so if it might impress the long-haired man; but he was ignored, like always, and followed behind Illumi anyway. “Illumi! I was only joking.”

 

“You don't joke.”

 

“Yeah, but still. I was sort of this time.”

 

“Liar.”

 

“I'm that too, but Illumi, come on!”

 

“I'm going back to base. The other squadron should be arriving in less then half an hour. I want to be prepared for the Chimera Ant attack.”

 

“You make it sound like you're looking forward to fighting.” Hisoka smirked and Illumi chided him with his blank, cautious stare.

 

“Maybe just a little.”

 

Seeing the blood-thirsty Zoldyck assassin admit he was openly looking forward to a _slaughter_ fest made Hisoka's smirk grow in volume, consuming half his face with his evil intent. Face turning dark considerably, he followed each of Illumi's foot steps, one right after the other. A twirl of his right hand magically conjured an array of playing cards and he thumbed through each one until he pulled free the joker on the end, holding it between two fingers with a purr.

 

“A little isn't true when we all know it's a _lot_ , dear Illumi.”~

 

He tossed the joker to the ground behind him, splintering the dirt and gravel in two at the point of impact and leaving behind a lengthy crack traveling at least three feet in length forward and back. The earth even shook a moment, groaning its protest; but still the two men walked on through the rubble and dust, the shadows of the deceased hot on their heels.

 

“We all know we're going to massacre those things, so let's not lie about it.” Hisoka continued, stretching his arms out behind his head to cross, finally catching up to walk in stride alongside the lither man, grin aimed more then just his way this time. “Tell me how excited you are to kill some pesky creatures for a change? It's been, say, a week or so since we had some action, right? Then aren't you dying to wrap your hands around something and watch it bleed? Illumi.~”

 

“Overjoyed.” The bored, dead tone of Illumi had even the magician chuckling in earnest. Brutal honesty. He loved it.

 

“Overjoyed, it is then.”

 

And death. He loved that a lot, too.

 

* * *

 

Killua's entire world was wobbling back and forth the faster Gon shook him. Any moment and he was mentally and emotionally prepared for the dying embarrassment he'd experience when throwing up all over his teenage companion, but somehow he just couldn't will himself to care for the matter. Not unless Gon stopped anytime soon. “Ne, ne, Killua! Look, there it is. It's there! Right there in the distance. Can you see it-?”

 

“ _Yes._ Gon. I can see it.” Killua pulled Gon's brawny hands from his shoulders and glowered at the cheeky bastard's sun-shiny grin and face, “Now, please. _Stop shaking me._ ”

 

“Zaban City.” Gon breathed in deeply, turning to face the land slowly drawing nearer by the second. He gripped the boat railing and leaned dramatically over the edge, eyes wide and curious in interest. “It's not as big as I pictured it would be.”

 

Killua picked absently at his teeth and rolled his eyes. “What you're seeing right now in the distance isn't necessarily Zaban City, Gon. It's further in after we dock at Dolle Harbor, and the city is just a few miles past that. Zaban's actually a pretty big place in its own right but it's not that great. It's just like any other small city you'll find here in Padokia.”

 

“A city. I've never been to a city.” repeated Gon and he crooned, draping himself along the railing with a dreamy sigh.

 

“Oh, right.” Killua perked at the reminder, “You've lived on Whale Island all your life. So this is your first trip to a city then.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, don't take it to, to much heart. It's not going to be the kind of place you expect to be.” Carding through his silver tresses, Killua walked to stand at Gon's side, scouting out towards the city afar.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because, moron. The other **Silver Squadron** destroyed it when they were clearing out the Ants. It's nothing but a pile of ashes now. All the buildings are in shambles and there's not a person in sight. They were cleared out when the Ants invaded so there's nothing left of Zaban City to see.”

 

“Oh.” Gon sounded genuinely disappointed but his expression spoke otherwise. “I see. That's okay then. I'm sure I'll still like it.”

 

“You're really bizarre, Gon.”

 

The Freecs teen chuckled, undeterred, and leaned away but still held onto the railing, his attention now trained on the beautiful expanse of blue sky stretching overhead as far as the eye can see. Not a cloud in sight. “The sky is nice and calm today. There's no storms coming anytime soon.”

 

Killua rose a brow. “How can you tell?”

 

“The smell in the air.” A twitch of his nose and Killua fidgeted, disturbed. “And the birds. When there's a storm coming, you can smell it in the air and the birds warn others, too, when it's approaching.” Not a bird in sight, either; a clear sign it was safe on the sea for the time being.

 

“That's... weird.” Killua barely managed, chin upturned to stare at the same spots he thought Gon was trained on. “But I guess that makes sense. The air does smell different when it rains, so I don't see why not when a storm is brewing.”

 

“It's more salty then anything. At least every time I have smelled one before, it tasted like salt.” Gon laughed, neck rubbed in his casual sheepish gesture.

 

“I still am convinced you're related to a dog, Gon. Maybe like one of those hunting hounds or something. Nobody has a crazy sense of smell like you do.”

 

“I get that a lot.” Gon, unshaped by the comments, smiled and walked forward until his chest pressed onto the wooden sides, flush. “But after awhile, I don't think I pay attention to what people have to say about me. Maybe I'm just used to it?”

 

“Maybe. I mean, I guess that could happen.” Killua scratched his cheek, not making eye contact when those hazel eyes looked his way.

 

“Did you get used to being called a killer?”

 

The question was so sudden, so out of the blue, that Killua was caught off guard the second the word _killer_ graced the air, coming none other then from Gon's innocent, pure lips. He saw a flash of scarlet across his vision, splattered across Gon's image; turning his hair white, his skin pale, his body red – like him back in the old days. And then it was gone before it came and Killua had to rub his eyes for a moment before he choked out a small, 'Huh' because he honestly had no clue how to respond to Gon's words.

 

Absolutely nothing.

 

“Is Killua used to being called a killer?” Gon repeated himself after a moment, head cocked to the side, “You told me you're an assassin. So that would mean people sometimes call you a killer, right? A lot of people in your squad were saying things like that when I was trying to find you. I just thought-”

 

“Yes. Yes they do call me that.” Killua's strained, anxiety-riddled voice interjected and he held up his hand, ceasing Gon from further comment. He shook his own head, trying to clear the haze of thoughts that always happened to premeditate the fog in his mind; the cold and dark recesses of his haunted past; his fated lifestyle. Trained instinct told him to avoid this conversation at all costs; _don't get others involved_ , but for some reason Killua couldn't find the will to fight the words that came out of his mouth next.

 

“And what they all say about me is true.”

 

Gon's parted lips held a sentence on the end of them but Killua reached over and shushed him, heel of his hand digging into the foot of Gon's chin. “I know what you're going to say, and you're wrong. I know you think what they say is stupid, but it's true. I am a killer. I've killed a lot of people and I've done a lot of stupid shit. But that's because I'm a _Zoldyck._ We're assassins and that's our job. But, even though I _am_ a killer, doesn't mean I _want_ to be one.”

 

“I knew you didn't want to be one.” The tan-skinned teenager brushed aside Killua's hand to speak, stepping toward him so the space between them was too close for comfort. Killua had nowhere to go with the nearby wall of the downstairs rooms behind him. He was cornered and he didn't like it. “I knew you didn't want to be one the moment you told me you were an assassin. That's why I wanted to ask Killua if what the others say is true. Because I don't believe it.”

 

“Gon-?”

 

Unfortunately, it was Gon Freec's turn to talk and he pushed both heels of his hands against Killua's small, pursed lips and stared; hard and determined and unbearably stubborn. “If Killua doesn't want to be a killer, why doesn't he stop being one then?”

 

“Because-” Killua's sky blue eyes narrowed and he pulled back, grappling with Gon's wrists to keep his hands away from his face and anywhere _else_ they might think to grab, “I don't have a choice. This is the lifestyle I was born into, even if I didn't get a choice in the matter. I mean, who wants to have their life planned out for them? When I told my parents I didn't want to be one, they snapped! And well, that was pretty much the end of discussion right there. My parents have high expectations for me and they want me to take over the family business, so of course they wouldn't give me any _chance_ of arguing it out, even when I did threaten and hurt them! They _want_ me to be a killer. And whatever they want, they _always_ get one way or another.”

 

“That's not fair though!”

 

“Life's not fair, Gon. I told you that's reality for you. So give up. I'm a killer and that's life for yah!”

 

“ _NO!_ ”

 

“Gon!”

 

“Killua!” Gon shoved Killua backwards with a force the assassin wasn't remotely prepared for, harder then necessary, and sent the snowy-haired teen stumbling backwards into the wall. A yelp was all it took and those dagger-filled eyes were back on him, glaring now, and even Gon sucked in a shaky breath from that threatening stare. But he didn't back down, striding purposefully forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with the other teenager, his yellow eyes just as tense as those blue ones. “Killua's not a killer. If Killua doesn't want to be a killer, then that is that and too bad for your family!”

 

“What the hell?” Killua openly gaped, grabbing the sides of Gon's head and shaking him back and forth as he tested to figure out if there was a brain in there. Gon started making weird noises and his skull rattled. “How _idiotic_ are you? Do you even have a inkling of a brain in there or what? You can't seriously be this stupid. Listen to what I'm saying!”

 

“I am listening to every single word Killua says.” Somehow, Gon managed to say while his head was being shook; that stern gaze never dropping sight of Killua near him.

 

“Then why don't you get that it's not as easy as you make it sound to be?!”

 

“Because Killua's not a killer!”

“Argh! You're ridiculous.” Killua thrust Gon backwards, letting the other teen trip so he could start walking away from him, distance himself safely from the ignorant, hard-headed guy that was Freecs before things escalated to something Killua certainly could not handle right now. Not at all. “I'm leaving. You can stay here and smell your salty water until your tiny brain rots. I'm done talking about this.”

 

Gon leaped forward, snatching Killua's wrist in a death-grip and forcing him to lurch forward into a startled stop. Rounding back out of sheer, pent-up frustration, Killua swung his newly formed clawed hand out at break-neck speed and Gon intercepted, throwing out his fist so the nails cut cleanly across his knuckles and he could grab hold of the others wrist. He effectively locked Killua in a vice and their garnering stares battled it out as their arms shook and tangled, attempting to break out of the opposite boy's hold, yet to no avail. They were too evenly matched to declare a winner and Killua slumped his shoulders in recognition; knowing words would be the quickest way out against a physically-relied upon male.

 

“Let go, Gon.”

 

“No, Killua.”

 

“Why are you doing this? What's your problem?”

 

“I don't know.” Gon simply said, blinking as he relaxed his stance but not his hold, “I don't want Killua to walk away like this again. Not like he did earlier when he was upset.”

 

“I'm fine, Gon. I'm not upset.”

 

“You are.”

 

“Not.”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

“No, I'm not.”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

“No, I'm not.”

 

“Killua's upset!”

 

“Shutup, _idiot!_ You don't need to announce it the world, _sheesh_.”

 

“I am an idiot, yes.” Teeth grit, Gon leaned forward as he pulled Killua unwillingly towards him, face-to-face again. “But this idiot knows Killua's not a killer. So I want to make sure _you_ know that, too.”

 

“Why the hell do you care so god damn much?”

 

Gon's strained, reprimanding expression eased into a big, goofy grin; completely knocking Killua's sanity for a loop on an unwelcome roller coaster ride. He may have just fallen and face planted to the floor if it weren't for Gon's grip keeping him upright. What made it even more worse was what Gon said next; his blunt honest-to-a-fault nature never ceasing to amaze even Killua who's seen his fair share of things in the last sixteen years of his life, thinking he may have been done with what the world had to offer.

 

He was dead wrong.

 

“I care a lot about you, because, Killua's my friend!”

 

“....”

 

Killua stared, his face a careful, blank slate of his real feelings bubbling in the depths of his subconsciousness; masked behind all those past years of walking the world alone, following in the footsteps left behind for him, planned ahead for him. It was his only pathway to go upon all that time. He had no other choice. It was the only thing well lit, illuminated and ready to tread over; for the shadows off to the side were too malicious, too full of whispers and sounds that swung out at him whenever he dared step too close. He never thought to risk side-tracking off the cobblestones coated in blood, slick with festering splashes of red and littered with unshed tears; at a chance that maybe, just maybe, the mysteries of the darkness would be his relief.

 

Behind the layers of screaming, of cries and soundless sobs, of weeping in agony and hurt with nothing but the echoes of your own voice to listen to, to talk back to; Killua couldn't comprehend the words he was hearing now knowing they weren't his own.

 

_Friend?_

 

**'Assassin's don't have friends.'**

 

_What's a friend?_

 

**'You'll kill the people you befriend eventually.'**

 

_Can I have a friend?_

 

**'You only want to know if you can kill them, the moment you get close. '**

 

_Will someone be my friend?_

 

**'You only want to see them all die.'**

 

“ _...”_

 

“ _Haha. Killua, you're real stupid you know.” Leorio said once, when they were brushing past each other in the hallway after a long mission. “But you're still cool, you know. When you want to be, I guess.”_

 

_Killua stopped and it was Kurapika who was suddenly standing in front of him then, pausing in their walk to face the other teen, a smile on his lips. “Look, what Leorio means to say is thank you. And I know you aren't going to say anything, like all the other times, but we just felt like we should tell you that. We're really thankful for you helping us out back there with the Ants. We really appreciate it. And because of that, we want to make you our friend, since you are still a little new here. That way, you'll have somebody there to support you in the war. Okay?”_

 

_**Friend?** _

 

“ _Yep. You're our friend now. You little punk.” amended Leorio, but did not dare turn less he reveal the pinks of his ears or the reddish hue on his cheeks._

 

 _Killua knew he had saved their asses back then when Leorio and Kurapika had been swarmed by thirty Chimera Ants, but how did it warrant_ _**this** _ _kind of response instead of all the others he was used to receiving?_

 

_Silent stares and no words._

 

_Out of nowhere, Leorio hissed and finally turned around and Killua's eyes went wide at the much-less cold of a stare he normally got in this type of scenario, much-less harsh and far more warming. “So, don't go abusing the privilege brat or I swear I'll pound your face in. Got it?” Killua's mouth twitched in answer. “Good! Come on, Kurapika, we have to go.”_

 

“ _Alright. We'll see you later, Killua. Thanks again. And if you ever need anything, like help or backup, let us know. You're our friend now, too, so we'll be there if you need us.”_

 

 _The blonde then nodded to Leorio and Killua didn't realize how hard the lump in his throat had gotten until he swallowed it; a rock in his stomach. He was watching the two backs of his new '_ _**friends** _ _' walk away and disappear, immobilized by the thickness in his gut and the heaviness in his feet._

 

_**Friends?** _

 

_I have friends?_

 

_**'Killua has no friends.'** _

 

_They said they are my friends._

 

_**'You have no friends.'** _

 

No, all the words in his head, were definitely not his own; Killua concluded. He had gotten used to these constant, nagging voices in his mind talking to him at all times of the day; whispering nothings that held no meaning, no context, and no reason. But none of these words were like the stab and sting of lashes from his parents forcing him in their desired direction; their way. Neither were they the needle pricks of his older brother Illumi or the bored, charismatic drawl of fat Milluki. Or even from Kalluto; the youngest of his family, always having little to say, little to add to his life, so his words never quite reached him in the corners of his subconscious. Whatever he had said, were warnings that Killua never intended to listen to.

 

That only left one other person he could hardly remember in his memory, talking to him; smiling, even, their image a wispy blur off to the side, deviating from the passage he was given.

 

“ _I love you, Onii-chan.”_

 

“ _Killua. Daiski.”_

 

But nothing that's been said to him mentally had to come from them; from his family or his life – So then, where did they come from?

 

And now, as he was listening to Gon's words, grinning so broadly up at him; Killua still didn't register the real meaning behind what was it meant being called his ' _Friend'_. Not until he really thought back, stopped and glanced to the side, and noticed the things he didn't see before; the things that danced in those shadows.

 

These things, mysterious and solitary, pirouetted around on ripples of white, blotching the blackness around. Gon was there, skipping around that other blurry image of a small, frail person just short of Gon's height, waving at him with a blocked-out face split in a grin. They had long cascading hair that bobbed and beads dangling from near their ears, shaking and jingling in every step. Their tiny body was wrapped in a dress. Yet, they were both waving at him. Killua shivered.

 

 _This isn't real,_ he told himself. _It can't be real._ The lights that lit up beneath their very foot falls, scattering along the ebony backdrop, was mystical almost; a firework show on display across the floor that Killua has never truly stuck around to experience before.

 

And he believed it; somehow, that it wasn't just a dream, even if a part of him was lost in denial.

 

_You're my friend._

 

Unbidden, Gon's arms wrapped around him and trapped Killua in an embrace he wasn't remotely ready for, pulling him in until their chests were pressed together and Gon's cheek brushed against his own, soft; warm, _unwanted_ somewhere inside himself.

 

Killua didn't pull away, though, caught between watching the visual of Gon and this strange, _unknown_ person dancing off to the side, together, hand in hand within his deepest subconsciousness. A realm, a place he considered to be his Killua was still stuck, cemented in place on his predetermined path, ripped between his desire to continue onward, ignore them and the rest of the world to follow where he should go – and stray away, join them, dance and be free.

 

Killua was utterly and completely torn in half on what to do.

 

“You're my friend, Killua.” Gon's words broke the surface of his mental fortitude. He nuzzled into the space of Killua's shoulder and the assassin shuddered, stiffening instantly, resisting the touch but by no means trying to escape. “Killua's actually my first friend I've ever had, which makes you really special. Like my best friend! Ne, Killua, did you know that? You're my best friend!”

 

“ **Assassin's don't have friends.”**

 

_I wish I was._

 

Killua's voice echoed numbly and only to himself this time. The people dancing in his world were long gone, again, and this time, Killua really was alone once more. He stared up at the wide expanse of blue sky and closed himself back to the darkness behind his shut lids, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

 

_I wish I was, Gon._

 

* * *

 

 

“Kurapika.”

 

“Leorio, no.” The Kurta answered, mutely, and he folded his arms against his chest in a glare at the medical Hunter in front of him.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I said so.”

 

“What a lame ass excuse that is.”

 

Kurapika rolled his eyes but would not have it and Leorio shrugged his shoulders to resign in his defeat, a sigh on his lips. “Okay, fine. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to spill your drink all over your favorite tabard and touch your chest like that in front of everybody when I tried to clean it off. Are you satisfied?”

 

“It was _embarrassing_ , Leorio.” hissed the blonde and Leorio snorted out a laugh and found himself chuckling anyway against the risk, “It's enough we had to bare witness to Gon groping Killua's butt, but I did _not_ need you to follow suit by groping at my chest with a towel in front of _everyone_. Especially everyone high ranking in our squad that have mouths which love to gossip. I do not want something crazy like that getting around to everyone! Just think of what they'll say!”

 

“They aren't going to say anything, Kurapika. You're overreacting.” There was a smile in that tone but the chain-user could not be swayed.

 

“ _I'm overreacting?!_ ” Leorio gulped, his adam's apple bobbing nervously. He wiped away the stray line of sweat on his forehead on the back of his long-sleeved button-up.

 

“Well, yeah, Kurapika. You kind of are-”

 

“I'm not overreacting!”

 

Doing a face palm, the bespectacled man slumped forward while he sat in the opposite direction one should when in a chair. “Look, how many times do I have to apologize until you forgive me?”

 

“Well, precisely one thousand, forty-two-”

 

“ _You've got to be shitting me!_ ”

 

“No, I'm not 'shtiting you', Leorio.” Kurapika said, despondently, and he walked until he was a foot from Leorio, bending over with his arms crossed still. “I just want you to understand how grave a situation this is.”

 

“How is this a grave situation?!”

 

“It just is!”

 

“What, do you expect me to go find every single person that was in that room and force them not to ever tell anybody what happened in there? Because so help me god, if you think I'm going to do something like that, you are stinking out of your mind.”

 

Obviously unshaped, Kurapika nodded. “Then you better get started because I am _stinking_ out of my mind.”

 

“You bastard.”

 

“At least I'm not a greedy, money-hoarding snob.” quipped Kurapika and Leorio's teeth showed from a curled lip.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Greedy. Money-hoarding. Snob.”

 

“ _YOU-!!!_ ” Leorio made to lunge towards the other, completely forgoing that he was sitting on a chair backwards, and came out falling over in a squealing, comical heap of himself as he crashed to the floor and took the offending object of his demise with him. Leorio lay face planted on the shattered remains of a once-good and sturdy wooden chair and moaned his dismay into the cement tile below. “ _Fuck,_ that hurt.”

 

“You kind of deserved that, you know.”

 

It took Leorio a moment but he resolved himself for the time being. This was Kurapika for pity's sake, his best friend really, and only one he'd turn to when in the heat of a war. What anger he felt moments ago dissipated into a dull yet subdued fog of anger, but forgiving anger no less.

 

“Yeah, I kind of did.”

 

Kurapika crouched and helped Leorio back up to a seated position even though the chair was no longer a viable option as it is. He was smiling and the older man's heart fluttered in his chest automatically. “Heh, kind of, is correct, but a little more would be sufficient.”

 

“Oh, whatever. Meanie.” Leorio crossed his legs and leaned back on his hands, a smug grin drifting up at the blonde, “But you have to admit you liked it.”

 

“...”

 

“What-?”

 

_BAM._

 

Kurapika's foot collided with the elder's chest and he hit the ground in a loud thud, rolling over somehow despite his massive body length, and was upright again the second his feet touched back down. Blinking wildly, Leorio gaped in the direction of his male counterpart, both eyebrows twitching against the creases of his wrinkled forehead. “What the hell was that for Kurapika?!”

 

Somehow, Kurapika found himself giggling and he wasn't sure why. For whatever reason, it just felt right, to laugh and feel so light and warmhearted in this situation, to laugh with his best friend considered. Leorio was a goofy man, a pinnacle of worry-free stress for Kurapika on a good day, when he'd smile and offer intelligent advice and kind concern for his well-being. It saved him the trouble of worrying too much about himself because he had Leorio there to pick up the slack where he missed out on. That gave him more time to focus on the more mundane tasks of preparing to keep their asses intact, alive, and certainly in one piece.

 

And spare a kind eye now and again towards Leorio, watch his back as well.

 

“Nothing. It's nothing.” He rose a hand, brushing away the bangs loose across his brow so he could see Leorio in all his glory and genuinely grin, a shadow hidden by the faint tilt of his lips; for his closest comrade yet.

 

And maybe, a little bit more these days.

 

“If you say so, man. But I do apologize for before, even if your the one who kind of was asking for it..”

 

_Thwack!_

 

_Leorio, you know I could never stay mad at you._

 

“ _Damnit_ , Kurapika!”

 

_Ever._

 

“WE'RE HERE!” Somebody outside shouted over the creak and rocking of the boat when it eventually subsided and Kurapika glimpsed down at Leorio, one brow raised.

 

“Looks like we've finally arrived.”

 

“Seems like it.”

 

Offering out his hand, Leorio chuckled and slid his over the curve of the Kurta's, meshed and molded perfect to fit. “You ready to go then, Kurapika?”

 

“Ready?” He pulled Leorio up so they were just a foot apart in space, smiling up at the doctor with that rare gleam in his eyes. Leorio sucked in a breath, a grin breaking out on his face and laughed.

 

“Ridiculous. I've always been ready, Leorio. Let's go.”

 


	15. Inside Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Gon; Zaban City is filled with new people, new surroundings, and new surprises, while some are surely more unwanted than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the feedback lately. I sincerely appreciate it. It still is probably one of the only things that keeps me wanting to write, even if I have to shove and push out like crazy to get myself motivated and moving. It's just that small reminder that there's people who really like this that makes me wanna keep going.
> 
> So again, thanks. /end sappy rant cuz suck it
> 
> I'm doing my best to keep this around a weekly basis, maybe like 8-9 days at best but never over two weeks.. so like a week and a half? Lol, I dunno. But I'm trying to time it right so I hope everybody is okay with that xD
> 
> Enjoy.

**15**

 

Captain of the **Silver Squadron 1: Attack Formation** ; Satotz, was out to greet the other members of **Silver Squadron 2** with his usual, good-nurtured cheer when they pulled up on the shores of Dolle Harbor, waving politely to the valiant cheers of an overly exuberant new member to their team. The only one who was; somehow, happily celebrating that they landed into the city safe and sound, or even just the fact they were pulling in at all – was Gon Freecs. Much to Killua and Leorio's constant _'STOP JUMPING AND SCREAMING_ ' and _“SHUT UP ALREADY'_ phrases repeating like a broken record, Gon still did not stop squirming in place, hollering at the top of his lungs from his unstoppable excitement at finally arriving into the desolate, wasteland of a boat harbor.

 

Kurapika stood off to the side, doing his own face palm as Hanzo rolled his eyes, chuckling humorously as he strolled forward off the ramp to shake hands with the other leader. They walked off soon after, Gon watched appreciatively from the side, hand held to his brow while he scouted and beamed. He threw a finger Satotz's way and exclaimed, louder then ever for the entire area to hear that had every single crew member wincing in ear agony.

 

“WOAH. LOOK YOU GUYS. THAT MAN HAS A GIANT MUSTACHE FOR A MOUTH.”

 

“....”

 

Somewhere, off in the distance, Satotz was coughing and Hanzo was trying his damned hardest not to laugh; before the two eventually disappeared around a building and were gone. The mustache mouth, also gone.

 

In the meantime that Killua was climbing back up the side of the boat where he fell off from the immediate shock wave of Gon's shout; saving himself from an embarrassing soak on Leorio's not-so-lucky end. Gon was pouting as he flopped over the railing. The remaining people of their squad began to file off and towards the city, carting off things in big crates and Pokkle heading the orders, reading from his clipboard in practiced fashion.

 

“Welcome to Dolle Harbor, Gon. Zaban City is just a couple miles in and that's where the rest of the squadron is staying.” Kurapika hummed thoughtfully, his gray eyes watching their fellow comrades march straight into the destroyed ruins of indistinguishable buildings and infrastructures beyond disrepair. They already knew where they needed to go; too many unwanted and unnecessary visits to this place had their hidden bases memorized to a tee. The blonde's gaze wandered in the direction they'd be headed for; far off east and slightly to the north. “I know it's not much, but it was once a very populated, very inhabited place bustling with life. It was one of the most visited places here on the Padoka Providence before the war started. Why, Leorio and I came here when we took our first Hunter exam on our quest to find the exam's official site.”

 

“It reminds me of Whale Island.” Gon perked, smiling ear to ear.

 

“Yes, yes I'm sure. It's a little bit like that.” Kurapika's own shallow smile faltered even when Gon's didn't. Once Killua hopped back to the creaky floorboards, Gon joined him and the two boys rushed off the boat with haste. Kurapika spared one last longing look over the side, chuckling as Leorio flailed and splashed, cusses flying off his mouth in rapid succession enough to make brawny sailors cringe. “I'll get you a towel.” He said, not bothering to see if Leorio picked up on his words, and went to fetch one before the eldest of their pack of four erupted like an underwater volcano and capsized the boat.

 

Because with this rusted piece of junk they were using, anything was possible.

 

“So where are we headed?” Gon asked, skipping every other step or two while he bounce-walked next to Killua down the dirty, dusted trail the other recruits followed.

 

“The other **Silver Squadron** base in Zaban City.” Killua droned, not even partly amused by his dreary tone. The atmosphere of a demolished town did little to brighten one's mood. “They only have one set up here. We had two.”

 

“You've been here before?”

 

“Yeah. Twice. When the Chimera Ant invasion was really bad and they were trying to cram the city port with rescue boats to send to the safe house. They called in our team to assist. It was pretty hectic and chaotic for awhile but with the collaboration between the two **Silver Squadrons** , we pretty much had the Ants run out of town in about a week and a half.”

 

“Wow. It took you that long? Were there that many Ants?”

 

“Yep.” Killua stretched his arms high above his head, rounding a corner and hopping over some of the fallen metal posts there; presumably telephone or radio ones judging by the size. Gon clambered up in a not-so-graceful manner but it got the job done. “There was about two dozen _Nen_ using Chimera Ants, too, which made it real difficult to push them back. They had some crazy abilities that were hard for us to counter.”

 

“How did you stop them then if they were that strong?”

 

Killua stopped dead in his tracks and it was Gon who was tripping over his feet a few steps ahead to catch himself from getting too far ahead. He turned on his heel, looking back at the frozen silver-haired teenager, blue eyes suddenly void of color and dark gray with some ominous; color-coated aura dwelling within them. He looked distant, like he was gazing out at something very far away and not at Gon; whom his line of vision was currently aimed at. Gon naturally tensed, gluing himself in place, and swallowed a very minuscule, nervous lump in his mouth. “Killua?” He tentatively asked, uncertain if he should reach out or stay put. His instincts told him to pick the latter and Gon relied upon his instincts more often then naught.

 

“It's nothing.” A minute passed and Killua finally answered, light returning to create a dazzling sapphire blue color again. “Let's go.” The albino started walking, right past Gon who had yet to move, and Gon clearly saw the shadow of Killua's _Nen_ on his shoulders, clutching like a pair of demonic claws, ripping and shallow. There was electricity in the air, tickling at the hairs on the back of his neck. He swallowed again unintentionally and jogged up until he was directly behind him in pursuit.

 

For some reason, as hard-pressed Gon's needy curiosity was to find out the answer to his question, he did not push himself to nag further. Killua's own bodily warning was more then enough to keep him at bay for the time being at least.

 

He'd pick a more appropriate time; and maybe an appropriate person who shares in the experience, that would be a prime opportunity to find his answer.

 

“How far away is the base, then?” Gon tried, deterring from the earlier subject in loo of lingering in the grisly tension hanging like a thunder cloud over Killua's head now. He didn't like it one bit. It didn't suit him.

 

“About three miles towards the outskirts of the inner city.” replied Killua, almost monotonously and Gon huffed, lower lip puffed, “Why?”

 

“Hm... Race you to the base!” Gon suddenly announced and sprinted off with a powerful first step. The residual wind blew Killua's wild silver mane all around, whipping at his face, and Gon's laughter was like a chime on the breeze, soft as a bell and lighter then a feather. Killua loathed it to a fault. “Loser gets to eat ten trays of leftovers!”

 

“Fu-” hissed Killua, bristling like a cat, and stampeded towards Gon, an electric bulldozer powered by two legs. His _Nen_ sparked like broken wires on the pavement below, singeing each foot fall to charred dust, and several others traveling in their path quickly stepped aside and let the pair blast their way through like cannon fire; already accustomed to the growing-obnoxious behavior of two teenage boys not to care in the slight. “Like hell I'm eating leftovers again. I won't lose, Gon!”

 

Under the withering glare behind him, Gon pressed onward. As the bronze tone of Gon's skin shined with a thin layer of sweat the longer they sped off through the rubble and wreckage, Gon couldn't help but spare one quick glance back at Killua not far off behind and smile. The look on the other boy's face was priceless in comparison to his previous not-so-pleasant one. His brows were furrowed and he was soundlessly yelling at him nonsensical words that were tuned out in Gon's mind, saving shelter for the image of the moment then the words that labeled it at something it most likely was not. He had a childish pout, small lips protruding; his nose even scrunched up in a cute, girlish-kind of way and navy eyes daunting but daring also. There was the faintest hint of Killua's own smile there, untraceable by any that wasn't Gon; already accustomed to the little quirks of the Zoldyck by now that he only noticed it.

 

If Gon could see this kind of face; Killua's face, like this every day, then Gon would be perfectly content with his life.

 

Yes, perfectly content, to be sure.

 

Gon turned and picked up the pace, knowing full well that this challenge was more then just that. It was a race to escape the early end; because somewhere, somehow, that dreaded ending was drawing near and Gon didn't want to give it the opportunity to catch up if he had a chance to change that.

 

_Catch me if you can. I'm ready for you._

 

* * *

 

 

“Uhm, Killua.”

 

“No. Just, no. Don't say it Gon. Don't even say it.”

 

“I- I can't help it, Killua. I mean- I can't-”

 

“Gon. _No._ Don't you dare say it, so help me God I will murder you right here, right now. I will-”

 

“Killua-”

 

“GON, DO NOT-”

 

“Oh my god, _Killua its-!_ ”

 

“FUCK NO, _GON-_ ”

 

“ _THAT GUY'S BONER IS HUGE._ ”

 

Gon was pointing at; you guessed correctly, a really large bulge in another man's pants not too far from where they were standing in the back, huddled in a smaller group of the other **Silver Squadron's** members as they waited for the two leaders to come out and give orders about the impeding Chimera Ant invasion. Those within a five foot radius of Gon; after hearing that sudden overly-sensitive exclamation, immediately expanded said radius to almost ten feet now and then some, all with eyes ready to explode out their precious sockets.

 

Killua slapped his hand over Gon's mouth as quick as those words slipped out and he flinched, doing his best to send apologetic glances the others ways to no avail. No one would even dare look at them now, let alone be near them for the duration of their trip after Gon's oh-so lovely declaration of noticing another man's obvious erection and pointing it out to unwilling public knowledge.

 

There was a limit to, _too much information_ , and that was definitely one of them.

 

What makes matters worse was this more-than obvious erection was being shamelessly sported by none other then _Hisoka_ ; the psychotic, lunatic of a clown/magician/whatever the hell he wants to go by every time they have a run in with him. Usually it was his outrageous hair-style that tipped people off this male was crazy and even Gon's inhuman porcupine locks couldn't fight against flaming red and pink. The facial make-up; stark white with a teardrop and star beneath each eye, was enough to make anybody cringe at the falsity that made it appear _clownish._ His tight crop-top exposed a round disk-like ball in the middle and Killua still swore he really didn't possess a normal human body beneath those clothes. But, what hit the hardest, was the straining tent in those baggy, puffed-up hippie pants speaking volumes; all that room meant it was _that_ big to become _that_ notable and Killua was horrified with himself for even realizing that fact.

 

Damn his overbearing need to analyze everything he sees down to utmost perfection.

 

“Gon, you _idiot._ Look at what you just did. We're so in trouble, now!” hissed Killua, lips inches from biting those perky tanned ears right off at how attentive Gon was being to his own words now. Couldn't he had done that _sooner_ before blurting out about another guy's hard-on for the _whole_ encampment to hear? _Hisoka's_ hard-on, no less??

 

Gon licks Killua's palm and instantly, the albino squeals in horror at the slobber now drenching his skin as he reels back and clutches the attacked limb with an expression that speaks absolute disgust.He tries to shake off some of the saliva without having to touch it and dirty more of himself in the process, brows clenched at the gross squelching sound the stuff makes when it hits the ground, grimacing. “Oh, so gross. You seriously licked me. How the hell does one make this much slobber from just one lick? Damnit, you are _so_ a dog.”

 

“Maybe.” Gon ran his tongue over his teeth and chuckled, staring back in the maniac clown's direction. “Who is that guy?”

 

Killua half-assed a glare at Gon and huffed, settling to wipe the last of those distasteful liquid remnants on Gon's sleeve and the boy had the audacity to ignore him outright anyways. “Are you talking about Hisoka, the evil clown?”

 

“Hisoka.” breathed Gon, unblinking. Hisoka was standing off to the side alongside two other people waiting at the entrance to the captain's tent. He was carding his long, delicate fingers through his reddish tresses and Gon swallowed, a sense of foreboding the reason there were goosebumps on his skin.

 

This man was dangerous, promiscuous almost; Gon knew that at best.

 

“Don't even get near him, Gon.” Killua warned, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “Seriously. That guy is absolute bat-shit insane. I'm not kidding when I say he'd kill you without batting an eyelash, he's even worse then my family and _we_ make a living killing people. He just does it for his sick, selfish and twisted amusement.”

 

Gon's brow rose but his eyes did not leave the magician, still watching. “So he's a bad guy?”

 

Killua bonked Gon hard on the head and the tan-skinned teenager yelped and whined in audible dismay. “Are you actually asking me something as ridiculous as that?! How dense are you! Of course he's a bad guy, Gon, he's _crazy_! Dangerous! Don't go near him or I swear I'll let him kill your sorry ass and not regret it!”

 

“Haiii..” Gon pouted but relented, and Killua grabbed Gon by the arm and begun to lead him away and out of sight. Gon's line of vision followed Hisoka's movements all the way until he was lost from view; feeling that strangeness shadow behind him even when he was gone.

 

Whatever feeling he was getting from being around Hisoka; wasn't good, but it wasn't terrible, either.

 

Gon would have to find out more about it this unexplained feeling later, then.

 

“Where are we going? What about the meeting?”

 

“To find Leorio and Kurapika, duh. And nobody cares about the meeting anyway, so we can just find out about it later.” Killua answered, not turning to look at him when he talked. Gon trailed along, being dragged by the arm with no complaints and strangely enjoying the coolness of Killua's unnaturally cold skin on his own warmer one. It was pleasant. “I want them to tell me where our stuff is so we can get you a proper weapon to defend yourself for when the Ants attack.”

 

“But I can just use my fishing pole for that.”

 

“A fishing pole isn't a weapon, moron!” Killua slapped his other free hand back and hit a broad shoulder, earning another whine and pout to follow. “You need something that can actually deal some damage or you're good as dead in a fight! You can't expect to cut up a Chimera Ant with itty bitty little hooks on a _fishing pole_. And you most certainly can't whack them to death either.”

 

“But what about my _Nen_?”

 

“You don't know enough _Nen_ to fight, Gon. You'll be lucky to even maintain your _Ten_ as your main form of defense in a fight scenario let alone throw a decent punch. You need a weapon.”

 

“I can still fight.” Gon snorted, nostrils flared humorously even if Killua wasn't looking, “Killua shouldn't underestimate me before he's seen me fight.”

 

“So, you've been in a real fight before?”

 

“Well, uhm, I mean-”

 

“I take it that's a no.”

 

“Hey!”

 

The snowy-haired teen released his small grip on his arm and they both came to a halt in a small clearing surrounded by some tree stumps and aftermath of a battle held inside a small corner store. There were partial remains of furniture and glass fragments littering the streets from a building barely intact, but it was enough to recognize what it once was. Unlike most everything else in Zaban City's ruins.

 

Killua's sneakers crunched on splintered wood when he turned to face Gon, hands twisting in his pockets out of sheer habit. He was chewing on the inside of his mouth, brows furrowed, before he finally spoke with a quiet tone, subdued for the matter. “Gon. I know you're trying to be serious about this whole thing, but you can really get yourself killed if you're not careful. This isn't like some kids video game where you lose a life and start over. This is real life. And one retarded move could mean your death.”

 

“I know that.” Gon countered, the least bit deterred. “This is war, right? Then I want to make sure I treat it like one.”

 

“Then don't tell me you're using a fishing pole to fight!”

 

“But I can really use one, Killua. You haven't seen me use one yet!” defended Gon and Killua threw up his arms, waving them in the air dramatically for no reason.

 

“Geez, you are so flipping stupid it's not even funny anymore.”

 

“I am stupid, Killua, but I really can use a fishing pole to fight.”

 

“I can't believe you. You're crazy.” Killua glanced away, his sea blue eyes now hiding behind his shaggy silver bangs. Then he corrected himself. “No, no. Scratch that. You're more then just crazy. You're down right _mental._ ”

 

“Killua...” Gon reached out, not thinking about the possible consequences, as he grabbed hold of Killua's ice cold hand in his own and held it, fingers slotted together. The startling action snapped Killua from his sulking reverie and his head shot up, pupils blown out of proportion and mouth parted. He was gaping like a drowned fish, gums flapping uselessly while he tried to process something; _anything_ , to respond to the unwanted touch, but did not retreat. Gon squeezed tighter, a smile flitting over his features and he relaxed against the touch, reassuring. For some reason, it just felt right doing this sort of thing with Killua; that Gon didn't question or think much about doing it as long as he trusted his gut.

 

His gut said yes.

 

“Ne, Killua.”

 

“What, Gon?”

 

“There you are, _Killua.”_

 

Like he was frozen in time, Gon watched Killua's entire body become paralyzed and the way his face twisted up was nothing short of being livid and absolutely _horrified_. It happened in slow motion – Killua's blue orbs widening and his jaw going slack when his name was called, as he swung around and his body became a shield for Gon, protecting him from the new stranger approaching in the distance. Not once did Killua let go of his hand; and he only squeezed it harder while his opposite hand rose up, fanned out to the side like a guard. His nails were at the ready and Gon clearly saw the veins popping out in the knowing gesture that those sharp, demonic claws would come forth without a moments haste.

 

The stance Killua was in reminded Gon of an animal's parent defending its child or other kin; his legs spaced out in such a way that if he had to make a leap either to attack or flee, he could perform it with adept ease. The terror that radiated off of Killua's aura was frightening; hell, Gon was pushed into an unexplained fright and he wasn't sure why.

 

This strange feeling he was getting from this oncoming person was definitely not good. It was nothing like how he felt around Hisoka; locked in a duel between being fearful and being excited.

 

This was something far more potently dark and maleficent.

 

“..Illumi.” Killua's voice was higher in pitch then usual, crackly and hoarse, and when Gon leaned to the side to get a better look he could see Killua's adam's apple bobbing back and forth and he nervously gulped.

 

Illumi; as Killua referred to him by, was a tall, willowy man with jet black hair as striking as Gon's. It was straight and long; so long it fanned out across his back side and then some, and if Gon hadn't see the broadness of those wide shoulders and large, lanky chest he would have mistaken Illumi for a woman. His attire was green; like Gon's, and what drew his eye automatically was the vest with giant, yellow bobby-pin needles pushed into the front. The heads of the pins were massive and when Gon squinted a little, he could see just a hint of an indigo-colored aura lurking with him; almost as ominous as the radiance Illumi strolled to them with.

 

Illumi's _Nen_ aura was dangerous, Gon corrected himself. It wasn't so much as dark as it spelled _danger_. It closely resembled the same danger Hisoka radiated under first impression; the two of their aura's one in the same. Perhaps they were related?

 

His gaze trailed down and back up one last time once Illumi stepped within a few feet of them and he fell on that expressionless, blank face of his and those murky, empty eyes that were as empty as an abyss. He averted his sight immediately, wanting to avoid getting lost in something as endless as a black hole like those beady black orbs. It was nothing like what Gon was used to; seeing happy smiles and friendly grins, laughter that rang and floated in the air, and colorful hues full of life and joy. Faces that sung like the sun and calmed with the moon, brimming with emotion and feeling and _freedom_.

 

This Illumi person willingly chose to lose their ties with emotions. He obviously had embraced the darkness long, long ago.

 

“ _Killu_ , who is this?” Illumi's voice was more feminine then Gon thought it would be, even if the male was as thin as a girl. But so was Killua; so he did his best to accept the gender role for what it is and not argue on his dueling thought's behalf. Gon's brows canted forward, not backing down in the face of this man when he stared into his direction; cold and calculating and _harsh –_ and entirely directed at Killua no less. “Didn't I tell you not to associate with worthless scum? I told you-”

 

“I'm not scum!”

 

“...”

 

Killua's face contorted with a look of shock as did Illumi's own, appearing mildly surprised when Gon chose to let go of the tight yet reassuring hand-hold he shared with the assassin to step forward and up, standing in the space separating the two males. “I'm not scum.” Gon repeated, his shoulders squaring themselves as he rose to his full height even if it wasn't as intimidating as he had hoped for in the presence of this worrisome addition.

 

“And you are?” Illumi leaned toward Gon, his head tilted to the side and Gon felt those piercing onyx eyes examining him. He held back the urge to shiver. “I've never seen your face on the squadron's roster. Are you perhaps newly recruited?”

 

“Wait-” Killua tried to speak up, but Gon upturned his chin and glowered, determination set in those golden irises.

 

“My name is Gon Freecs.”

 

“Gon Freecs.” Illumi repeated, rubbing at his chin, “And what association do you have with dear Killu, here?”

 

“Gon, please, don't-”

 

“I'm Killua's friend.”

 

Killua wanted to slap Gon silly but the urge fled his system as soon as his hand rose out to him, dropping it back at his side where it belonged. Where he knew Illumi would approve of. At a loss, sky blue eyes dropped and he scrutinized the ground, grunting, and racked his brain on what to do. He had prepared himself for this moment before; when Hanzo gave him the heads-up at their meeting prior to arriving, but now all those plans were fleeting and Killua was more then angry at himself for forgetting.

 

_What do I do?_

 

“Killua's friend? That's absurd. Killua doesn't have friends. He's never had any and he never will.” spoke up Illumi; past the throng of Killua's dizzying thoughts, neutral tone grating to ones ears and most of all Gon's. It was like stabbing knives in your ear drums, only worse, twisting them at the handles and doing more then just tear out your fighting spirit. It was slicing, annihilating it to shreds that even sheer willpower would not triumph. Gon grit his teeth, fists balled in front of him, and dared to inch nearer, now sporting a ferocious glare.

 

“Yes he does! You don't know anything about Killua. So, you're wrong.” Gon growled though Illumi was hardly swayed, “Killua has friends. He has me and Leorio and Kurapika and Hanzo and-”

 

“Killua doesn't have friends.”

 

The inexplicable rage dwelling within the Freecs teen was a fireball in the pit of his chest; burning and scorching hot and a thin layer of angry sweat soaked his brow. Gon furiously wiped away at it, grinding his teeth into his bottom lip as he glanced down and swallowed a greedy gulp of air. For whatever reason, he was feeling absolutely pissed at this person for acting like a complete know-it-all; like they knew Killua inside and out, assuming his life for him. _Who the hell is this guy?_ Gon knew Illumi had no right to say such cruel things to Killua; no matter what sort of relationship they may or may not share.

 

Killua was his own person.

 

“ **Who wants to have their life planned out for them?”**

 

This _Illumi_ can't plan out Killua's life for him, that's for sure.

 

“You're wrong.” started up Gon again, edging forward, “Whoever you are, you're wrong!” He was so focused on standing Illumi down that he totally missed the flash of fear back in Killua's eyes, or the way he was shaking as harshly as a tree caught in a tornado. Killua was as drenched in his own nervous sweat as Gon was. He caught something that Gon didn't and the air was tense, thick like poisonous smog, and if Gon wasn't stuck in his typical 'determined-mode', maybe he would have noticed. Illumi appeared blank; a mask that hid his bad intentions, and his hand steadily reached towards Gon. It was only by Killua's own panicked-stricken shout that brought the two battling young men from their ego-filled stupors.

 

“I'll go with you!”

 

“...”

 

Gon rounded backwards and he was caught off guard when he saw that cloud of fear in those distorted pupils, a soundless gasp leaving him in surprise. _What's wrong with Killua?_ Gon wanted to ask, the words hovering at the edge of his tongue, but he wasn't able to when Killua walked towards Illumi, their shoulders brushing; static zapping him unintentionally, and closed the boundary gap between them. Gon flinched, rubbing at his tingling arm going numb from the random shock and trailed his vision upward until it landed on the back of Killua's mop of white locks. Now, he could see the shaking, the tremors, the sweat clinging his clothes to the back of his neck.

 

Now, he could see the fear.

 

_Killua?_

 

Killua was bowing his head up and down, slowly, either out of respect or discomfort. When he figured it was enough, the shadows cast from his bangs effectively concealed his pale skin in darkness. “I'll go with you.” He shakily said again, after a moment, and Illumi immediately lowered his hand with his head cocked sideways again. “That's what you want, right? To talk. I'll go with you, then. Wherever it is. I'll go with you..”

 

“.. _brother._ ”

 

 _Brother?_ Gon peered between the two, slack-jawed. _Illumi's his brother?_ The dawning realization hit like a fork lift to Gon's body, all the wind knocked out of him and was helpless to watch that forced on fake-smile of Killua's turn his way. _This person is Killua's brother?_ His heart sunk the lowest it ever had in his chest, deep in the pits now.

 

Killua was from a family of assassins; brutal, evil people who sought nothing but the money they earned for the lives they've killed. They might as well be cold, heartless and unforgiving; mercenaries who thrived off the deaths of others, who fed off the deceased and crippled. People who tread on the weak and the small, lacking all forms of remorse. If this was one of those people, then, Gon wondered what the rest of his family was like.

 

Killua was nothing like them though – Gon's heart stayed true to this fact.

 

Killua wasn't a killer.

 

The albino was facing him, hands held in a hidden, desperate plea, and Gon felt another thick bead of sweat grow itchy as it slid down the side of his cheek bone. “Stay here okay, Gon? I'll be back later, so you can go find Kurapika and Leorio without me if you'd like. My brother and I have some things to discuss. Family business, right?” Killua was dryly laughing which made Gon felt his chest tighten unbearably so with hurt. “Just wait for me, okay G-?”

 

“Come now, Killu.” Illumi interjected, not sparing to gaze back as he moved away and waltzed on and thus Killua was compelled to follow. He marched away like a trained soldier; a child leashed by the genetic ties it held with its family. They were fate's chains linked in with ones DNA – Gon hated those above all. And Gon knew he was frowning and it didn't help in the meantime he watched Killua's false, insecure smile fall as well; until his face grew black, void, and dead again. Just like the many times he had seen it already.

 

The face of someone who's since been defeated.

 

“Killua.”

 

“Gon!”

 

Whipping around instinctively to the call of his name, Gon saw Kurapika, Leorio, and Hanzo altogether waving their hands in his direction, trying to _get_ his attention even, beckoning to him with their cries. But Gon blinked once and placed his back on them, choosing to ignore his other friends in loo of watching the last bits of Killua's strong, composed back slink away into a downfall; slumped and given up.

 

“ **Who wants to have their life planned out for them?”**

 

Killua's words echoed in the far corners of Gon's mind and he swallowed, peeking up at the darkening, cloudy sky up above that had been so bright and colorful minutes ago. The beautiful ocean blue color that had been there prior was now a pitiful gray. The ominous blotches of black and silver streaked across the horizon, a rumble of thunder off in the distance like the cry of a wounded animal; one who knows it has lost this round.

 

It was now, that Gon knew he had been wrong. His instincts and impeccable senses had failed him.

 

Soon, a storm would come.


	16. I hate every part of you in Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon and Killua both have a run in with two different kind of characters. One; is made of trickery and deceit. The second; manipulative and spiteful. Neither are of any good news to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hisoka can pull more then just a rabbit out of his hat ;33 TROLOLOL /shot
> 
> Kinda OOCish to me, or at least it feels that way. Nyeh. Gon finally meets with Hisoka (look its kind of anti-climatic too) and Killua has his talk with Illumi. I've been toying with how I originally wanted them to meet for who-knows-how-long and finally just slammed my head into a wall and got this. Yipee.
> 
> Also, will be rewriting and fixing up earlier chapters as well. I may be taking a temporary hiatus on this story after the 17th chapter is posted in order to finish my other DRUG AU (High) and also look over this story again and fix it. Sine it's Un-beta'd and all that nonsense, it's littered in typos and errors. Plus I dislike my style of writing. So I want to fix that. But it won't be like 9857846 months or something, no worries. Probably like 2 weeks at best or something around that c: hope that's okay.
> 
> Excuse all my nonsensical rambling. BACK TO STORY YEP. THANKS. AGAIN. LIKE ALWAYS. U GUYS ARE FABULOUS.
> 
> Enjoy.

**16**

 

“Do it.”

 

“But, Killua told me to stay away from Hisoka.”

 

“Just do it, Gon. Come on!”

 

“Killua said no.”

 

“Gon!”

 

“Why do I have to do this?” Gon turned and deadpanned at the three expectant, waiting faces of Leorio, Kurapika, _and_ strangely, Hanzo. How the three of them managed to convince Gon to come here; to find _him_ , and were now pressuring Gon to go and just have a friendly 'talk' with _him_ – Gon was not sure when they arrived at this outcome or for what reason.

 

All he knew is that they wanted him to go meet this _Hisoka_ person and they wouldn't let it slide even if the entire Chimera Ant army started invading the shores at this moment.

 

He was going to speak to Hisoka whether he liked it or not and that was that.

 

“Because this is your chance, Gon. You absolutely _must_ talk to Hisoka. He's quite a character when you get to meet him! I think you two will really get along!” Hanzo gestured at the nearby clown who was presently longing on a bench in the middle of what might have been a big grassy public park at one point. The only thing remotely intact was the rubble of a fountain in the center of everything, two other bench structures barely held together and Hisoka was sitting on the only one that was in a whole piece.

 

Twenty feet away and utterly alone.

 

Gon heard of elusive traps before by some of the adventurous tales from fisherman; those ones that led you in on false pretenses that something good will come out of it only to get seriously hurt. Or worse – You die. Killua mentioned something about traps in video games where your character falls into one and nine times out of ten it results in your death, because that's what traps are set up for.

 

To kill off the stupid, weak players dumb enough to fall into one. (Or in this case, unprepared.)

 

“He doesn't seem my type though nor does he seem very approachable.” Gon commented, dryly, eyeballing the frame that not so long ago was sporting a ginormous boner for god-knows-what reason. Hisoka still carried that dangerous air around him; suffocating and noxious like poisonous gas and Gon understood; now, with Killua's warning, that this person is someone you did not want to approach. Hisoka was relaxed and reclining, completely motionless with his eyes shut. It did not bode well in the pit of Gon's stomach.

 

“At least give him a chance, Gon.” Leorio pleaded, tugging on Gon's jacket sleeve, “You'll be really surprised.” There was a glint in the elder man's eyes Gon couldn't quite pinpoint what for, but it set him on edge.

 

Kurapika chuckled and it sounded forced. “Yeah, Gon. I think this may be a prime opportunity to make some friends with the other squadron. Right now all you've got is Killua so why not take this chance to meet some other people? Hisoka is a-” Gon missed the anxious twitch of the blonde next to him, “-a, well, you know.. a g-good guy. Very friendly and nice and loves to make friends. And, uh, well, you know...?”

 

“He knows cool magic tricks!” blurted Hanzo and all three pairs of eyes and gaping mouths rounded on him, Hanzo sweat dropping in secret. Indiscreetly, Leorio and Kurapika were throwing thumbs up his way and Hanzo struggled to keep his quivering lips up in a reassuring smile that Gon seemed to be contemplating on. “Since he used to be a really popular children magician, Hisoka knows a _ton_ of really neat magic tricks. I think you'll especially like them.”

 

“Yeah- Yeah!” Leorio threw up his finger, doing his best to keep his voice low and away from prying ears but failing already. Hisoka shifted and immediately the older men cringed and lowered in their knelt spots, Gon blinking in confusion. “Hisoka knows lots of magic tricks and he even knows a bunch of tricks that involve..” A pause, the medical hunter rubbing at his stubble chin, “Involve animals! Yeah, animals!”

 

Kurapika snapped his fingers, beaming himself. “Yes, Leorio! You are right. I totally forgot about that!” He faced Gon and the tan-skinned teen perked a brow in mild interest. “Hisoka is a huge animal lover and he knows quite a lot about animals, including some tricks, too, that involve animals. Doesn't that sound like something you would be interested in, Gon?”

 

“I guess...”

 

“Then it's settled!” Before Gon could protest further, six hands were shoving him forward and Gon practically fell out of the nearby bush they were hiding in. He stumbled, tripped on his own foot, and just caught himself in time to upright again when Hisoka glanced over his shoulder. Those piercing yellow eyes were now trained on him, zeroed in like a sniper at its prey and Gon was the inescapable target.

 

The sun-kissed teen swallowed, the words he was tugging on to complain to the others ripped from him in one stolen breath of air. A sly, malignant snicker twisted those thin, bright red lips and Gon's mouth went totally dry while his skin broke out instantly in a nervous, clammy sweat.

 

_Crap._

 

“Hello there.” Hisoka had a voice that was oddly sweet, sultry, and Gon rubbed at the goosebumps on his arms involuntarily. “Come to join see the park as well? Here,” Hisoka gestured at the empty spot beside him and Gon felt like cement magically dropped into his boots because he was stuck in place, “Have a seat. There's plenty of room on the bench with me and I don't mind sharing.”~

 

“U-uh.” Gon stuttered, choked on his own spit really, and glanced back over his shoulder at the bush. He could blearily make out the eyes of his friends narrowed through the underbrush and their hands were waving at him, trying to usher him forward, but Gon figured himself unable to dislodge. Sighing, he peeked back at Hisoka who was no longer watching like before and was humming a merry tune that did sound kind of nice. “Are you sure it's okay?” pressed Gon, working his brain frantically on how to get out of this situation he was forced into too soon. He wasn't prepared for this at all. “I mean, to sit with you?”

 

_Please say no. Please say no. Please say no._

 

“Not at all.” **♣**

 

_Darn._

 

Because he didn't have the brain capacity to weasel himself out of this; _and he really wished Killua was here to help him because he was so much smarter and would know what to do_ , Gon begrudgingly willed his feet to move and he trudged over and stopped a foot away from the opposite end of the bench. Hisoka smiled out of the corner of his eye and patted at the spot beside him. Gon felt rocks painfully twist in his gut and it took all the courage he had to force himself to sit; teetering so far off the edge not even his butt was fully on it. The bench wood creaked under his weight, threatening to break, and Hisoka patted again as Gon started to slip. Before the edge cracked, Gon scooted reluctantly sideways and was fully seated now with one body space to separate him and Hisoka.

 

_Darn. Darn. Darnit._

 

“There you go. That's a _good_ boy.” Gon shivered, Hisoka's smirk on him. “Was that so hard, now?”~

 

“Yeah, maybe a little.” answered Gon and instantly regretted saying a word. Because that just gave this new stranger something to feed off of and whatever percentage of dread Gon was feeling was multiplying itself by ten per second.

 

“That's good to know then.”

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes when really it felt like eternities drifted away and Gon was paralyzed in the infinite loop of their noiselessness. He sat rigid, like he had a flat board wrapped around his spine, and his fingers wiggled in his lap anxiously. What was he supposed to say? Killua _did_ warn him that Hisoka was dangerous and he certainly did _feel_ dangerous but what was Gon supposed to do now?

 

Before, this Hisoka person had both intrigued and frightened Gon, yet that was only from a safe and considerable distance. Now, up close, he wasn't sure what he was feeling.

 

It wasn't necessarily bad, per say, but it certainly wasn't good either.

 

Chancing a peek to the side, Gon looked over to see Hisoka leaning back against the bench rest with his eyes closed. He had one hand up, against his forehead and long, spider-like fingers netted in the scarlet red bangs poking through. There was an expression of content there, Hisoka relaxed and totally at ease. Gon felt he was very out of place here; a nervous wreck sitting as still as a statue, and here Hisoka was in his own world, in the zone, and peaceful. It didn't make any sense.

 

_Who is this guy?_

 

“Who are you?” Gon's thoughts voiced out before he could stop them and the split instant he realized his slip, he slapped a hand over his mouth and gasped against it, sputtering, “I- I- I mean- _oh crap_ -mean like-? I don't know!”

 

Hisoka laughed, cutting off Gon's struggle to cover up his mistake and didn't bother looking at him to talk, lips pursed out thoughtfully. “Call me Hisoka.” **♠**

 

“Hisoka.”

 

“Yes,” The clownish man chuckled and Gon twitched at the hollow quality to it, “Hisoka. That's me. But, if you would be so kind, will you tell me _your_ name? I don't recognize you, so you must be a _new_ recruit.” One gold pupil opened, Gon fighting the urge to shy away from the stare with his unshakable determination not to flee from this.

 

He's come this far, why stop now?

 

“Gon.” He said, chest rising, shoulders back, and breathed in; his confidence back somehow but he chanced it wouldn't be for long. “Gon Freecs.”

 

“Gon _._ ” Hisoka mused, painted ruby nail tapping at his sculptured jaw line. His angles could cut sharper then even Killua's – Having anatomy that could harm just from sight was a scary thought. “I like that. _Gon._ It fits. Gon it is.”~

 

“Well, yeah. I guess it does.” muttered Gon, averting eye contact and drummed his fingertips along his thigh. He was uncomfortable, sure, but he was dealing.

 

“So, Gon, why have you come to see the park?”

 

“Boredom.” Gon answers and he hates his own lie so he bites on his lip to keep his brutal honesty at bay, because he really has no other better excuse _but_ that. “I think.”

 

“I see. Well, boredom is a perfect excuse to come visit a _park_ , then.” Parting his bangs to the side, Hisoka lulled his head back until his hair splayed alongside his high, milky-skinned cheekbones. Gon gulped when sparing another glance his way and regretted the way the man made him all hot and bothered with no explanation as to _why._ Was it a fearful bother or an excited bother, like before? Or was this something else entirely?

 

It didn't feel pleasant though. Not one bit.

 

“Why are you here at this park then?” Gon eyeballed the surrounding rubble and ruin. What grass may existed prior was now just dirty and empty. The stumps of trees around the field were charred, burnt, and had no chance of surviving even in their cut-off state like so many other plantations would. Their roots would find not nearly enough sustenance on land that held no life, not here. “There isn't very much to look at anymore. So you can't be here just to see the sights.”

 

Hisoka waved his hand dismissively in the air. “You're correct. I'm not here to see the park.” He began weaving invisible patterns in the space between his fingers. When Gon squinted he could make out the shapes as they appeared with pinkish colored _Nen_ : A spade, a clover, a diamond, and a heart. The four playing card suits. “I'm here because I'm admiring what's left of the city view and nothing more, nothing less.”

 

“View? What view?”

 

“Why, the view of what's left of our battlefield of course.”~

 

“Battlefield?”

 

“When we fought those nasty little pests called Chimera Ants, dear _Gon._ ” Hisoka informed and Gon's eyes widened in realization. _They did all of this?_

 

“But didn't the Ants do some of this? I mean, they are kind of destructive..?”

 

“Not at all, actually.” Yawning, Hisoka started fanning himself and it wasn't remotely hot out. “When they came, it was us who was destroying the place during the battle. I give them an A for effort though, for trying to wreck things and demolish the city, but they were weak and easy to pick off. It was actually quite a bore really and not even a remotely entertaining fight.”

 

Gon gaped openly, like a drowned fish, and stared at the scenery that surpassed beyond the reaches of the park. Everything was in shambles; Zaban City no longer recognizable on the map. It was another wiped out blot on the planet's surface, just like Whale Island. The others were right – The members of **Silver Squadron 1: Attack Formation** were formidable indeed. And strong. Very, _very_ strong.

 

“You sure destroyed the city then.” commended Gon, mindlessly speaking as he surveyed the chalky ground around their bench space. “You can't even tell it's a city even more.”

 

“Then I guess that means we did our job well, then.”~

 

“You sound like you're happy that the city is in ruins.”

 

“Maybe.” **♥**

 

“ _Maybe?_ ” Gon hissed out, amber hues narrowing and Hisoka whistled randomly for no reason. The tick in Gon's left eye was irritating and he scrubbed at his cheek a moment to regain his composure, before that _something_ deep inside of him in the pit of his gut decided against having a sense of decency or respect for your elders.

 

And not decking the man straight across the face with his fist.

 

When Gon thought he had finally calmed himself down, the magician's words that came next tossed aside all his effort, in vain. “Yes, _maybe,_ Gon-kun. Maybe I am happy the city is in ruins.” Hisoka copied in that same sing-song voice and the hard line in Gon's mouth twitched.

 

“That's not funny, Hisoka.”

 

“Oh? It's not?”

 

Scowling now, Gon leaned forward on his right arm and glared up at the taller man, pupils slit and angry. “Why would you be happy an entire city was totally _destroyed_ ? I mean, what about the people? That's not fair to them. This was their home! And now it's completely gone because _you people_ think it was _fun_ to destroy it? Is that it?”

 

“Sounds like you're smarter than I thought you'd be, Gon.”

 

“...You.” Inhaling big, Gon's chest expanded and deflated with each breath he drew in to keep his cool, yet finding it quickly diminishing. He pulled away, scooting back over to the edge even if his rear was sliding off, and held his fists tightly against his knees. Killua was unmistakably correct about this Hisoka person; he was crazy. _Bat-shit insane_ , Killua called it. There was a sadistic air to that smirk, a twisted-up amusement hidden in the gleam of Hisoka's eyes; and Gon felt it all the way to his toes and back, curling and uncurling like a snake ready to strike.

 

He just so happened to be the one in his path, the one he bared his fangs and whipped his tongue towards; lusting and hungry, venomous.

 

This was bad. _Really bad._

 

“Oh, Gon-kun, what's the matter?” Hisoka voice broke through the fiery haze of Gon's inner turmoil and he spun around right as a molten stare met his honeyed one. Effectively immobilized in the gaze, Hisoka slid the pads of fingertips up and along the curve of Gon's jaw, back behind his ears, and gripped at the base of his head before pulling him frightening close. Their faces were only inches apart and Gon literally smelled the sweet, sticky taste of something like licorish or gum on Hisoka's breath and he cringed away as far as he was able to. “You look pale.”

 

 _That's an overstatement_ , Gon thought bitterly because his skin was deep brown and trying to find a trace of paleness anywhere was harder then finding the needle in a haystack. He shivered as Hisoka's fingers slipped higher up his neckline and he leaned forward out of the touch then regretted it when it brought their faces uncomfortably too near and he had to recoil back into the touch to avoid any much unneeded part of them brushing let alone _touching_ or making contact. He did not need that at all.

 

“I'm okay.” Gon tried his hardest to brighten up if it meant Hisoka would let him go. Or _something_ that didn't involve _this_. “Nothing is wrong.”

 

“Tsk, tsk. You're lying, Gon. You shouldn't lie to your superiors.”

 

“And how exactly are you my superior?” The challenging threat in Gon's pitch slipped and he reached up to grab Hisoka's wrists instead of stifling his noise because _what the hell_ , he was screwed already and it couldn't get much worse then this, correct?

 

“I'm your superior in _strength_ at least, and in status.” Hisoka crooned and the collar of Gon's tank top felt as itchy as if a thousand spiders were crawling across his skin. He scratched at it but it didn't make the tick go away. “Which means you should be honest and faithful to the people who rule above you.”

 

Gon grit his teeth, not appreciating being looked down upon, more or less by some stranger like this. There was no way he was going to let Hisoka proclaim him as _inferior_ when he didn't know a thing about him! No way in _hell._ “You don't rule me.”

 

“Oh? Why is that?”~

 

“Because you don't.” Gon answered immediately, no longer a slip of the tongue but his thoughts exactly, “Nobody does. Only I can rule myself. No one here rules over anybody else or is of any better or greater status then the rest of us.”

 

“Aren't you forgetting we're at war, dear Gon? There is a ranking among us that predetermines where we sit within our peers.” Hisoka tapped both thumb nails against Gon's brow and he hissed when the jagged points drew thin, cut lines across the creases in his forehead. “That's just how it goes in a battalion such as ours.”

 

“I don't care, then. I'm not going to follow any of that. I just want to fight and help the people who need it and that's that.”

 

“My, aren't you the heroic one?”

 

“I'm not a hero.” Gon brushed aside Hisoka's touch and it easily withdrew back as Gon stood, towering only a foot above Hisoka's true height. “And I don't want to be one. I just want to do what's right.”

 

“Then what is 'right' in your opinion, Gon-kun?”~

 

“Helping the other people who are fighting in the war and ending this once and for all.”

 

Hisoka giggled, raising to his own feet and Gon was forced to look up just to maintain eye contact, gaze determined and fearless not to back down in the face of this magician Hunter. “You certainly sound confident.”

 

“I am. I'm confident in my ability to fight.” Gon's chest elevated with a breath and Hisoka licked his lips, crudely as ever.

 

“Then perhaps a duel is in order to test out if you really are ready? Are you interested?” **♦**

 

Gon contemplated this, an eyebrow cocked upright as he stared back into those yellow snake-like slits. The prospect of fighting somebody such as this; _dangerous_ like a wild card, lit fire to the blood in Gon's arteries. He felt warm, tingly all over, and the goosebumps that were there before were not just from fear, but dwelling excitement. Gon had never once fought in a real fight before; the ones he's done dueling with the animals while trying to catch them didn't count much when he often had the upper hand.

 

No, this was another person. Another living being. Someone who obviously knew _Nen_ , as it radiated off him in sickening, luscious pink waves that tickled at Gon's flesh, burned him; made him want _more_ of this raw, untamed power.

 

And now, with his own _Nen_ , Gon had every right to join this new realm – Where the people battled every day of their lives, grappled with fear and adrenaline and that _rush_. They fought with pride in their strength and assurance in their mentality, warring with this life to do the job they've chosen, at its best.

 

The world of the Hunters.

 

His father, Ging Freecs was a Hunter. He chose to abandon Gon at an early age, leave him in the care of Aunt Mito and Oba-chan, for the sake of this profession. The depths of which this occupation must have pulled him in, could only be described as something addictive enough to draw him away. There must be something about being a Hunter that was more important to Ging then to remain here and raise his own son, his own child and offspring; his kin.

 

Gon could finally find out that reason and it all started on taking that first step into this Hunter world.

 

Hisoka was a Hunter, too, right? Like Kurapika, Leorio, Killua and Hanzo and all the others. Was it finally time for Gon to join them?

 

Pulling his hands into fists at his sides, Gon moved forward and was a mere foot away from Hisoka, chin upturned and grin splitting his face in two. He had his answer now.

 

_I'm ready. I'm coming._

 

“I'll fight you, Hisoka.” He breathed, boldness a badge on his heart and bravery his shield and sword. The tenacity lay in his eyes, the flame sparked in his golden irises burning like ruby and topaz combined; two precious gems coming together in a passionate display of renewed life-like fireworks. A brightly burning molten fire.

 

Besides, Gon was curious what a real fight utilizing _Nen_ was like. Hisoka just happened to be the first to initiate such a thing and Gon had no choice but to take it.

 

He's a risk-taker, what more can he say?

 

“I accept your challenge.”

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Killu._ ”

 

Obsidian hair obscured his face but Killua could see that visual clearly in his mind; in his worst nightmares and always in time to ruin his best dreams. Illumi stood a few feet away, back braced on the wall of some broken-down home they'd found refuge from prying eyes and ears. His oldest brother was a secretive ass like that; when he insisted he'd have Killua _alone_ with him whenever they talk and never speaking about any sort of personal matters out in the open like _normal_ people did. He loved to isolate Killua whenever he had the opportunity. So here they were, together and _no one_ else around, for the past five minutes standing in absolute silence.

 

Until Illumi's detached, void-like tone hit the air and sucked all life from it, and from Killua's lungs.

 

“Killua, look at me.”

 

Killua shook his head.

 

“Why won't you look at me? Why won't you look at your dear brother?” Killua felt that disapproving frown of his on the back of his skull, with his back turned to him and arms crossed, and couldn't stop the shiver from twitching at his spine because of it.

 

_'Dear' brother, my ass._

 

“Why should I?” He bit on his bottom lip and chewed thinking it might relieve some of his anxiety. It wasn't. “I mean, you just suddenly show up after three years expecting us to be on good terms and for me to oblige to your every demand? Fuck off-”

 

_SMACK._

 

If it weren't for his already tense posture, Killua surely would have fallen forward with the strength of Illumi's slap against his skull. He leaned away from the touch, only an inch out of place, and growled, shoulders quaking from his rattled emotions. “ _What the hell._ ” It came out as a mere whisper, but Illumi's small responding ' _hmmm_ ' didn't go unheard. “What the hell is your problem?” Rounding on his older brother then, Killua swung around all claws and teeth combined, hissing like a feral cat. “Why did you hit me?”

 

“Because,” Illumi answered, simply, “You shouldn't cuss like that, brother. Foul language isn't tolerated in a Zoldyck.”

 

“I can cuss all I fucking like, asshole-”

 

_BAM._

 

Killua did fall completely forward then, but his highly tuned-in instincts caught him in time to land on all fours instead, feet firmly planted to the creaking floorboards below and palms embedded and full of splinters. A few droplets of blood fell to the floor in front of him from near his ear, most likely from whatever blow he took to the head just now.

 

“You should know better by now the consequences of going against the family code, Killua.” spat Illumi, knuckles cracking, and Killua glared vicious daggers at the wood knowing even if they reached Illumi, that they'd be of no affect against somebody like that rotted bastard of a relative. “Has nothing I taught you all those years remained steadfast in the time that I was away? What a shame. If that's the case, I'll have to start all over again from the beginning then-”

 

“-No!” Killua flung himself to his feet and turned, wild-eyed and nerves on fire. Illumi was standing so close the tips of his flat-footed slipper shoes were against Killua's own and he instantly drew his feet away with an audible hiss, like he'd been burned from the contact which in fact; he was, because this was his over-bearing and acid-mouthed brother. A Zoldyck son; _the_ oldest and the _first_ one of his family line, for that matter. Even his presence could brand you like a hot iron. “ _Sheesh_ , why the hell are you even here now anyway? What happened to taking care of family business?”

 

Despite Killua already knowing beforehand that Illumi was now apart of the **Silver Squadron** , it didn't make the apprehension die away. Ever since Hanzo warned him, Killua was mentally and emotionally preparing himself for this encounter. He'd been contemplating all sorts of scenarios, all sorts of topics and things Illumi ought to bring up when they reunited, but everything he thought he had stored in his holster; ready to be drawn and fired point blank range, apparently slipped through a hole and was long since gone.

 

He was left with emptiness and nothing he could use to counter, nothing in his arsenal to use as a weapon to fight with.

 

“Mother said she could take care of the business since Kalluto is finally of age to take on missions on his own, so she gave me leave to join the Chimera Ant war alongside the rest of the family.” Illumi tilted his head, void-like eyes blinking. “I heard you joined this **Silver Squadron** group and offered my services to the Association to fight and was placed on this attacking squad. Isn't that quite convenient?”

 

“More like bothersome.” Killua sniped and Illumi reached out to pat his brother's head but he bolted sideways just as those cold, sharp fingers brushed across his scalp. He bristled from the contact. “Don't touch me.”

 

Illumi frowned. “Why not, Killu? I've been touching you since you were but a child. Why do you reject me now?”

 

“Because I said so and I don't _want_ you to touch me, Illumi. So, back off.” There was a flash of warning in those electric blue eyes and the elder brother pursed his mouth out critically, humming.

 

“You've changed, I see.”

 

“Three years fighting in a war would do that to yah. It shouldn't be that much of a surprise.”

 

Illumi's fingers, unwarranted, brushed across Killua's neck as he hissed and a jolt of fear burst through his veins like stars on a clear night sky. He threw his hand up to knock back the offending limb, but Illumi caught his wrist and locked him in place, a faint smile etched on an emotionless mask. “Is it because of this 'Gon' character?” He inquired and Killua's involuntary gulp made Illumi raise a questioning brow when he got no immediate response. “It is, isn't it?”

 

“Leave Gon out of this.” A snarl curled the corners of Killua's mouth up and he wrenched free his wrist from the others grip, glaring sideways while he rubbed at the minor bruise there. “He has nothing to do with any of this so just forget you ever saw him.”

 

_If only Gon hadn't been there when Illumi showed up. None of this would have ever had to happen._

 

_Gon.._

 

“Who is he, Killu?” Illumi edged closer and forced Killua back against the wall.

 

His leg twitched once, instinct telling him to flee, _get out while you still can,_ and Killua figured he'd need at least ten seconds to run for it. That is, if he could out maneuver Illumi in those precious few seconds when the window of opportunity arose. Illumi's dark eyes glanced to the side when something creaked beneath the wood nearby, a rodent, and Killua's feet were rising on that brief chance of success. His boots were moving in slow motion, making an escape, when Illumi's hands snapped forward and slammed to either side of his body, effectively trapping Killua in place. Sapphire irises widened, a soundless gasp left him. Some debris grazed cuts on his cheeks and went unnoticed. “Killua. Who is this 'Gon' person to you?”

 

“He's nobody.” The words came automatic and Killua's brain cogs were moving too fast for comprehension. There was trembling in his calves and he didn't dare move his feet back from their partly-risen form less he could get another slip up and wiggle free on the slim motive of avoiding his older brother's questioning. “He's just a new member on the team. That's all.”

 

“Where did Gon come from?”

 

“I don't know.” Killua said immediately knowing he had to cover Gon's tracks. It was enough if Hisoka found out Gon was just a stray they picked up from Whale Island. If Illumi knew Gon wasn't really registered on their team, he'd throw him under the bus and thrust Gon into the Association's clutches. The same hands Killua was still avoiding, still out running all this time. He couldn't bare to see his only – possible – friend end up there before he did. “Hanzo's the guy who handles that kind of stuff, you know, with the members and everything. He just kind of showed up one day, that's all. If you need to know the details, why not ask the so-called leaders instead?”

 

“I will consider the thought if Satotz doesn't inform of us such news in our later meeting, then.” The calculating gaze of his brother had Killua sweating bullets and he averted eye contact at all costs. “Is that all you know about Gon, then? Why was he there when I came to speak to you?”

 

Gulping on the rock in his throat, the heavy-weighted boulder in his chest, Killua maintained his best poker-face in spite of Illumi's adversity and his eagerness to slip through the mental barricades that he had built to protect himself from this sort of threat. Killua fortified these walls to keep out his brother's antagonizing words, his manipulating thoughts; and there was no way he would let all that training and practice go to waste. “Gon's the new guy and he asked me to show him where the base was. He wasn't part of the squad when we were stationed in Zaban City. I was going to have Leorio or Kurapika do it but they were busy dealing with Hanzo and the others sorting out our things. That's all and there's nothing else to it.”

 

“He called you his friend.”

 

“He's really friendly and calls _everybody_ in our squadron his friend. It's not that big of a surprise.”

 

“He was defending you.”

 

“Gon's an overly caring guy. He does that to you no matter how many times you push him away.”

 

“He was holding your hand.”

 

Killua opened his mouth and promptly closed it. _Fuck._ “...Well, about that-”

 

Illumi leaned dangerously near the split second Killua glanced his way and he bit back a gasp as he crushed his own weight against the wall to get away, only succeeding in keeping their noses from touching in the close proximity. He felt that chilly, lecherous breath on his neck and goosebumps rise like needle pricks on his skin, quivering. “ _Kill_ ,” Illumi said, briefly gazing at the way Killua's adam's apple bobbed up and down in apparent fright, “Didn't I tell you before that you can't have friends? Assassin's don't have friends. There is only our clients and our targets, nothing more and nothing less.”

 

“But-”

 

“I'm curious. You never did tell us why you decided to join the war. Why is that?”

 

“I-?” Killua hesitated, stumbling on his own words, and was caught off guard. _Why did he switch topics so fast?_ He knew Illumi would jump at him the second he mentioned the two boys holding hands, yet now he was sidetracking to something totally different? It didn't make sense. “I don't know.” He reluctantly offered, brows scrunched thoughtfully, “I mean, I just. I wanted to fight. And get stronger. I thought joining the war effort would do just that. And I was bored so I thought it'd be fun to go out and just practice killing Ants. That's all.”

 

 _The killing part should win him over,_ he thought, _Illumi always gets happy when I mention I'm practicing my murdering skills._

 

Illumi seemed to think this over, looking at his collar bone and not straight-faced like usual. For a moment, Killua's face lit up in possible hopefulness, but it dropped when Illumi's droned, empty voice took a completely different direction. “I see. If you wanted to practice killing, why not stay home and proceed with missions instead? Wouldn't that be much more logical then wasting your skills on pathetic creatures such as these? Not only will you be able to kill, but you'll make money then. Money for yourself and money for the family with the security that the Zoldyck's offer. There is no protection out here fighting a trivial, pointless war, or is there monetary benefit.”

 

“The Ants are tougher then you think, _Illumi_. I wouldn't underestimate them if I were you. And you know I never really cared for money, anyway. Money is just stupid trying to keep track of it let alone do any of _you_ let me keep it anyway.”

 

“Child's play.” He drawled, “For someone of your caliber, you are abusing your talents on weak opponents. You should be home, now, training to perfect your assassination skills; not ambling around playing games with petty inhuman creatures. Money is of no importance then. _Killu_ should focus on his killing.”

 

Killua glowered and his upper lip curled, displaying his fangs. Illumi and his insensitive nature towards anything that he can easily trod down upon, crush into the dirt – It always set an unpleasant taste in Killua's mouth, his throat dry and parched because Illumi ripped the struggle right out of him.

 

And he had no where left to go in return.

 

“You don't know anything, Illumi. You don't know what it's like fighting these things, watching people die right before your eyes. Watching innocent lives be crushed before they get a chance to do anything. Watching these stupid ass _things_ just slaughter everything in sight. It's not as easy as you make it out to be.”

 

Illumi cocked his head to the side, hands lowering until they brushed against Killua's own shoulders and the younger sibling tensed, flinching away again. His brow knitted with his anxiety. “Since when did you concern yourself with other people's deaths? That's news to me.”

 

“Since the war started, idiot.”

 

Killua caught the faintest hint of anger in those soulless black irises, but Illumi only turned away with his mouth set in a thin line, frowning. “Hm. That is something to be concerned of then, indeed. Killua shouldn't be having any feelings for those who are too helpless and weak to defend themselves. He shouldn't be fretting over the dead nor the dying. That is most troubling. Mother and father will be greatly displeased.”

 

Gawking at those words when understanding dawned on him, Killua leaned forward and started to speak, but Illumi placed two fingers to his lips and silenced him. “Killu, need I remind you that you are a killer?” The second the word _killer_ came to light, Killua went as rigid as a statue. “You do not feel for those that you've slain. You're a dark, passionless puppet. You don't want nor wish for anything, let alone need. As one who lives in those shadows, you can only feel pleasure when people die. That's how father and I raised you since birth. What would you accomplish joining a war to become worried about all the extra, worthless lives of the deceased and the people that's been slain? It's excess baggage. What is there for you to gain?”

 

“ _Anikii_ -!”

 

“Hm?”

 

There was a plea in the young teenager's voice that made even Illumi pause, intrigued. “What is it, brother?”

 

“I-” Killua swallowed, sweat dripping down his face now like rainfall on a pale background. “You're wrong.”

 

“Am I? How am I wrong then?”

 

 _Is he?_ Killua asked himself, lost in thought. _Is he wrong?_

 

“ **I care a lot about you, because, Killua's my friend!”**

 

 _Yes. He's wrong._ It took all the courage, all the determination and sheer willpower for Killua to blurt out his next words, but he wouldn't stop them for the world for the warmth in his chest was about ready to burst. “You're wrong. There is something I want. Something I can gain from it.”

 

“No there isn't.”

 

“ **You're my friend, Killua.”**

 

“ _Yes_ , there is!” Killua insisted and Illumi leaned back only slightly. Killua appreciated the little bit of extra space no matter how meager, sighing out a breath to calm himself. He pushed his balled up fists into his pockets, a shudder wracking his frame, but he refused to let it keep him from pressing forward; move towards that light he's seen again and again.

 

_Gon's light._

 

“Then what is it?”

 

Killua could see it in hindsight; Gon's smiling face in a halo of light and his hand outstretched, reaching for him, _waiting_ for him to come out and take it. Take him and accept him – The truth in reality.

 

That Gon and Killua were in fact, _friends_.

 

“I-...” He inhaled sweet tasting air, spice and pine that he delighted in whenever Gon was around; and he remembered what it was like to be in Gon's presence then that even miles apart couldn't erase his existence from Killua's mind. Or his heart. “I want to be friends-”

 

“This is about Gon, isn't it?”

 

 _Shit._ Killua felt his jaw tighten, uncomfortable and painful, copper tang on his tongue from where he bit down on the inside of his mouth, and he peeked up through his bangs up into that expressionless, blank face of his eldest kin. He was dead serious as ever and that dread from before returned full force, a truck-load of bricks knocking more then just the wind from his lungs. He had to grab hold of his shirt, twist his nails up into it, _anything_ to ease his steadily thundering heart beat. _Shit, no-_

 

That image of Gon still smiling and hand waiting for him was easily replaced by Illumi's crushing gaze, his greedy claws snatching him up, all-consuming as his dominating aura ate away the last vestiges of his hope. All in one fast swoop.

 

Gon's light was destroyed as Illumi's darkness took over.

 

“That's preposterous, Killua. You can't make people be your friends.”

 

“ _No-_ ”

 

“ **We want to make you our friend, Killua.”**

 

“Your only concern when you meet someone is whether or not you can kill them. You just don't know how to classify Gon because he's too dazzling for your eyes, too bright and too brilliant and _light_. Unlike you, who is dark; made of shadows and empty and _dead_. That's how you were trained, how we brought you up throughout your childhood.”

 

“ **You're our friend now, you little punk.”**

 

“ _Please-_ ”

 

“You don't actually want to become friends with him, Killua. You never did since the first time you laid sight on him. And you know that if you stay with him, you'll end up wanting to kill him one day. You'll get that urge to know, to see if whether or not you can kill him. Because, Killua, you have the soul of a killer. You _are_ a natural born killer. You are like that no matter who you try to befriend or get close to; you will always want to _kill_ them.”

 

“That's not true!” He was struggling to hold onto those last images of Kurapika and Leorio, smiling at him in the hallway as they declared themselves his new friends. But they were blurred, their faces blotchy and smeared and their words were like hollow bells ringing, destitute and vacant.

 

“It is. Killers do not need friends _._ They only get in the way.”

 

“No they don't!” Killua remembered the time when Palm Sibera mentioned them friends, in her snide little way when she snickered and threatened him at knife point only to laugh afterwards, fawning over how cute he was and how much of a _child_ he can be. But a friend to him, nonetheless. And she, too, was fading with the others, slipping from his fingers and falling into puddles at his feet. Puddles cast in scarlet red; blood, staining him.

 

“You say you want to be friends with this Gon, _Kill_ , but what you really want to do is murder him, right? You want to watch your hands wring around his throat until he's no longer breathing and your name is whispered on the last of his breaths. You want to watch your claws tear apart his body, his flesh and meat and paint your hands and your face with his blood. You'll wear it like a badge of honor, like a new mask, and you'll wear it with pride. You want to be there to break every bone, crush every inkling of hope and light in his eyes and be the one to watch it fade in him; watch _him_ die by your hand. Am I wrong?”

 

“ **Ne, Killua. Did you know that? You're my best friend!”**

 

“Stop-! Please, _stop_!”

 

“I'm not wrong.” Illumi looked smug, knew he was winning, and Killua was beyond horrified at this point; so much he couldn't stop the tears welling in his eyes or the tremors of his terrified form. He was reaching up, like he might grab hold of Illumi, shake and beg him to stop or _something_ , but his hands only made it half-way before they lingered, unable to take that last step and actually grab him. Actually _give in_ to what might be the truth.

  
Was it the truth?

 

“Killua is a killer.” said Illumi, monotonously, and all around him Killua's world was shattering like glass shards, sharp feathers that cut him to shreds, to indistinguishable, unfixed _pieces_ of his former self.

 

Pieces that were only broken. Pieces that couldn't be saved.

 

Every single piece of himself that he hated.

 

“ **If Killua doesn't want to be a killer, why doesn't he stop being one then?”**

 

“And you'll always be one.”

 

“ **Killua's not a killer.”**

 

Killua's hands found their way to his head, his flaxen hair, and he grabbed hold of the white tufts when his eyes fluttered shut. He doubled over, not caring if he was going to fall into Illumi in the process, as his mind was invaded by all these voices. Endless, hollow sounds echoing in his head, bouncing in his skull, and he couldn't hear anything but them. Screaming and cursing and crying, sobbing and speaking, whispers that mocked, all at once they told him, repeated Illumi's words over and over with zero escape. The pathway he walked upon trembled, those taunting silhouettes mocking him, laughing and pointing as they surrounded him from every angle. There was no exit.

 

_Killer._

 

**Killer.**

 

And all he could do was scream, even if he found his own voice drowned into reality, see the image of a person there at his feet, right where he stood. The darkness shrouded the outlined image of the shape on the ground, clearly made out to anyone with a careful, practiced eye. There was black and red every which way, blocking out any other color from granting freedom. Dangling at his side, the weapon of choice, the final markdown to end one's own life. The reaper's scythe that deals the deathly blow and the final screech on a soundless field, slicing through the air, cutting away the light and granting privilege to the all-consuming shadows.

 

It was him, still standing there; Killua over his victim. An assassin straight up and a body face down.

 

_**You're a killer.** _

 

_**And that will never change.** _


	17. Faceless in Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's so much to lose and so little to gain; or so Gon learns all in one moment in time that even he isn't prepared for in the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to go on temporary hiatus with this story for the next 2 weeks most likely. It may be a little longer. I'm going to finish my other multi-chaptered ficlet thing I started because it's hard to focus on more then one thing at a time, I realized. Haha. I screwed myself on that one. 
> 
> Also, I want to revamp this story a little and fix it up. I don't like my style of writing very much and I'd like to see a change to that, so hopefully I can make some of this better in the long run. Maybe, maybe not. We'll see.
> 
> Going on a week-long vacation too so writing will be kinda sparse probably. But I will do my best to push things out and I pray that when I come back to this I'll be able to fix it up the way I want it to be.
> 
> So sorry for the cliffhanger haha. Love or hate me, but the plot thickens as I (sort of) follow the original HxH plot line with some twists and turns along the way. 
> 
> I'm not giving up on this thing if anybody is worried haha. I definitely won't give up. c: So to those who still enjoy this little weird thing I've made, thanks like always for the support and what not. Every little bit counts.
> 
> ENJOY! Don't kill me much ahahaha..

**17**

 

_Smash!_

 

Gon's heavy boot crashed through the window pane of an already-broken glass square draped by shredded fragments of silk curtains, forcing him to twist his leg around and unwind from the curtain's sticky grip. Hisoka jumped, clearing the splatter of glass shards, and expertly landed one-legged atop a huge chunk of plastered cement from a run-down building. That smug smirk made Gon's insides boil, bubbles beneath his skin, and he scratched at his wrists once his feet touched down and he was standing on the piled remains of a dresser.

 

“Oh, you've got quite the agility, Gon-kun. What a pleasant surprise.”~

 

Hisoka purred and Gon shivered inadvertently, the crisp edge to the magician's voice settling goosebumps on the insides of his elbows, right behind his knees. Gon lowered to a crouch, amber eyes narrowed, before he pushed off with one strong push and leaped in a fluid bound, busting the wooden dresser in the process. Hisoka saw it coming, gracefully side stepping and Gon zoomed past and over. He flipped forward to break his fall just in time to grab onto the edge of another wall to stop his descent, pull up, and use the hard surface like a spring board to dart back towards the magician; fist held out to punch.

 

“Mmm, yes.” Hisoka chided, palm smacking against the brunt of Gon's knuckles when he caught it within range and Gon twisted and fought the iron grip with teeth grinding loudly in the process, “I love that look on you, Gon. _Please_ , give me that look some more. Give me that fire in your eyes. _Hate_ me.”

 

“Shut up!” Gon braced his feet on the wall Hisoka stood upon so he wasn't dangling and at the mercy of the psychotic Hunter to save him from the drop. “I told you to leave Killua out of this, so just _shut up.”_

 

“But it's so fun to watch you get riled up about your poor little friend _Killu_.” giggled Hisoka and Gon wrenched his wrist free, swinging out a leg at the same time that forced Hisoka to relinquish his grip in order to block. Gon fell backwards and was lucky for his own natural flexibility, pulling himself into a ball and rolling over so his heavy boots took most of the impact and he landed on the dirt below. He pushed off, spraying dust at his heels, and wove around the wreckage of Hisoka's perch, grabbing anything in sight and tossing it full force up high even if the other anticipated each shot and dodged. “It really makes you angry and your eyes just light up with that _fire_ of rage. It's so adorable.”

 

“What is your relationship with Killua, anyway? Why are you even bringing him up?” Gon bit out, ducking when Hisoka took two large boulders that were thrown and flung the projectiles right back at him, eyes blown out and shocked at the speed in which they were thrust. The wind zipped past him and visibly cut his skin with how quick they flew by. Those things were heavy and even Gon struggled to pick them up but Hisoka tossed them with adept ease. _This guy is strong. Real strong._

 

_And dangerous, too. Him and Illumi both._

 

“My relationship with Killua?” queried the mad-man, pointed finger to his lips, “If only I could tell you it was much _more_. Much more _intimate_ anyway, but little _Killu_ refuses to acknowledge me. And dear Illumi wouldn't allow it, even if I tried.”

 

Gon flared up at the mention of Hisoka being _intimate_ with Killua but he let it slide for the more important matters. At least for now. “You know Illumi?” He rose to his full height, brows canted towards his hair line. “How do you know Killua's brother?”

 

“Of course I know him. Illumi is _my_ partner.” Gon felt the strange, hidden possessiveness in his tone and Hisoka looked disgruntled just saying it, in theory.

 

“Your partner?”

 

“We fight together on the same squad, no?” Hisoka laughed at how Gon's cheeks colored at the obscene thoughts racing over all these possibly-perverted ideas choking him in his thoughts; all on the hidden meaning behind being partners. “So we're fighting partners. That's all.”

 

“Oh, okay then.”

 

Hisoka tilted his head to the side, arms crossed, and Gon coughed again at how awkward the silence between them stretched. “You can still leave Killua out of this.” He added, after a moment, as a last resort, but Hisoka's grin was obnoxious and Gon glowered under his stare. “I'm serious, Hisoka.” A fist rose, bathing in the glow of Gon's golden _Nen_ though he wasn't paying attention to it; his focus entirely on the clown in front of him. “Leave Killua out of this. He's not your _thing_ to play with. Killua's a human being, too.”

 

“You can be _my_ thing to play with then, Gon.” offered Hisoka once Gon charged forward and smashed his knuckles as hard as he could into the cement perch. Grayish chunks exploded outward around the center of impact, causing Gon to shield himself in surprise at the strength of his own attack and allowing Hisoka the prime opportunity to land right behind him and grasp him roughly by the throat. He was lifted off the ground, hovering by that one powerful hold, and Gon gagged on his own spit and kicked out to nothing. “I could always use a new toy or two and add them to my collection. What do you say?”

 

Gon couldn't _say_ anything even if he wanted to, let alone tried, as his legs flailed and his nails dragged thick, ugly red lines down Hisoka's milk white skin. He made a few quiet, coughing sputters, but Hisoka's grin grew wider and Gon's eyes watered against the sickening view of his tormentor enjoying this. His leg brushed a hard bulge in plush pants and Gon felt bile rise in his throat, clogged down by the secure fasten of the strong clutching on his neck.

 

He was steadily losing oxygen and the lack of air to his brain made his thoughts hazy, his mind a mess, and Gon knew he struggles were weakening every second if this kept up. They had already been fighting for nearly twenty minutes and most of Gon's stamina and energy was steadily declining. His battle experience had little to be desired in the face of a foe this powerful and Gon was clearly outmatched - It was obvious to him now. He had to break free, _fast,_ before things got ugly.

 

“H-H..isss..-sokaa.” croaked out Gon, yanking on the hands that held him, “L-le.. let.. g-gooo..”

 

“Why should I?” Hisoka snickered, squeezing roughly and a thin streak of blood slid from the corner of Gon's mouth and ran down his chin. His free hand rose, flicked up a crimson droplet, and he lapped it up greedily, a low moan issuing from his parted lips in the process. Gon mentally howled in his anguish. “Seeing you struggle like this, begging and pleading, is so _pleasurable_. Hnnngh, yes Gon.” The shiver traveling all the way along his voice could be felt even by Gon. “ _Yes_ , yes. Gon, _yes._ Plead some more. Tell me to let you go again. _Tell me_.”~

 

 _Sadistic pervert._ Gon grimaced, eyes stinging from his tears. His skin felt clammy, body weightless, and his mind began to float in the lack of oxygen there like a hazy, empty space he was free falling through. His muscles were giving out, arms starting to limp in their warring with his grip, and legs dangled helplessly down below. _Am I really going to die here?_ He wondered, blinking left and right at the cloudy, sad sky up high. It was all gray; gray and hopeless and dreary like a depression sinking in and Gon loathed it. He loathed this depressing sky and this terrible turnout for the worst, knowing he had picked wrong to fight with someone much more experienced then himself.

 

Fighting a battle he couldn't win.

 

And yet, Gon couldn't help himself. It thrilled him; his fight with Hisoka this past half hour. They had been moving so quickly, in nothing but a blur, and Gon loved the excitement and all that adrenaline rush of battling with an opponent ten times stronger then himself. His _Ten_ was remarkably strong, Hisoka commented. Several of his punches and kicks were blunt blows to Gon's defense and it set his nerves on fire; aflame with the craving for _more_ of this new ability. An ability he intended to make his own, in due time.

 

Their duel cut across the plane of Zaban City's desolate streets and Gon had utilized all his quick-steps and brutal throws to hinder Hisoka's movements every bit of the way. Hisoka was happy to admit being impressed when Gon easily slid past each of his carefully constructed attacks, slippery and defiant. Gon did in fact take many hits; however, and there were growing bruises blossoming along his sun-kissed skin, a broken finger or two and three fractured ribs at best. Part of his jacket tore, his shirt had a few rips, and his boots were scuffed with dirt and dried blood crusting like that along the corners of his jaw line to the bridge of his bashed-in nose.

 

But, throughout the time, Gon still wouldn't regret his actions or their skirmish.

 

Gon wouldn't declare himself a seasoned fighter, like Killua had implied before. Gon had very little fighting experience when it came to actual hand-to-hand combat and all he could rely upon was his trusted instincts and his natural in-born skill to direct him where he needed to move. Where he needed to swing, to kick, to dodge and jump and just _go_. Anywhere, if it meant Gon could feel the rush of air whipping against his sweaty cheeks, the breeze rolling across his hot skin, and the blood pumping erratically in his veins.

 

The quick, insane drum of his rapid pulse felt like a new addiction to Freecs; something he'd willingly fall into, if given the chance.

 

It was when Hisoka began joking about Killua that things went astray and what enjoyment over decking it out with a stronger foe was replaced by sheer, untamed anger. Anger, for a friend that didn't deserve this unjust treatment. First it had been Illumi and his overzealous reminder that Killua _did not_ have any right to befriend someone. It was the unfair scrutiny that was whipping Killua with harsh words, reprimanded by the foul-mouthed reminders of a life he clearly rejected with all his heart; and it was Gon who wanted to defend that speck of light in his friend with all the power he could muster.

 

Hearing Hisoka regard Killua as nothing but a tool, a _toy_ to play and rouse out of nothing but spite and personal satisfaction was like the final straw to Gon.

 

Gon barely remembered now what had happened when he snapped, aside the fact he was calming to the image of a wounded Hisoka; his left flank painted red with his own blood and the psychopath clutching at his side, smirk in place. His hair was tousled, rock and debris tangled up in reddish tresses, and Hisoka looked more worse for wear then Gon did from the start of their onslaught. The white make-up was smeared across his face, showing off lightly toned skin beneath, and even his tear drop and star were smudged along his high cheekbones now; ravaged.

 

Gon did a number on a worthy combatant and it was only his first time in a fight, no less.

 

Alas, he did calm quick though because his energy died with his racing heart beat and Gon was left standing there, numb and tired and confused. There was a strong abundance of _Nen_ growing in his right hand; his dominant hand, and he felt the thick waves of pulsing power swirl within it, fester behind his fingertips, and it was then Gon realized he had enhanced his punch to become stronger.

 

“ _ **You're an Enhancer. You enhance things or objects and make them stronger.”**_

 

It made sense now that Gon quickly inclined to powering up something he imagined himself utilizing a lot to fight. His hands; his _fists_ more likely, were his best asset. He was known for his big hands, his thick calloused palms and bulky wrists and relentless grip. He had a strong quick-step, yes, but his legs were nothing in comparison to his hands; something he used more then anything in his day-to-day life.

 

It was perfect.

 

And so, Gon pursued Hisoka back in a more controlled, calculating manner with his new-found ability in tow; feeling nothing but exhilarated at the thought of potentially seeing another blood mark show on the strong man's skin. He fought with only slight reckless abandon, but abandon no less, as he discarded his previous anger to defend Killua; but with a much more level head this time and a new weapon at his disposal.

 

Gon noticed a little too late he wasn't much for thinking, let alone strategy; and his powered-up punch wasn't all that great, in which it is exactly how he ended up in a choke hold dangling now from Hisoka's hand, neck threatening to snap any second if it lasted an instant longer.

 

“N-n.. n-n..ooo..” He wheezed, on the last vestiges of his fading breath, eyes squeezed shut as blackness began to creep at the corners of his vision and impatient to fade out. He could see Killua's image there, blurred and muddy and laughing as he jokingly called him an _Idiot_. It made Gon's heart flutter uncontrollably and he wondered how much of an idiot Killua would be calling him now, knowing he had stupidly walked into encounter he was destined to lose.

 

And might not make it out alive, either.

 

“No?” Hisoka perked a brow, licking his lips repeatedly, “No what?” He lowered Gon just enough that the tips of his boots balanced on the ground to hear the whispered breath of Gon's voice better, and it was then that Gon's eyes snapped back open reflexively, the fight inside him bouncing back to life in that split moment.

 

He pushed down against Hisoka's hands, using his weight to place his feet back on ground level and the leverage was enough for him to spin in place, a hard, tense calf slamming into the side of Hisoka's hip. The older man gasped out in surprise, his squeezing brace loosening enough for Gon to pry free utilizing his own brute strength, and he twisted taking Hisoka with him. The magician flipped over and Gon was throwing out his other free leg to kick, in the crazy tango of limbs flying through the air, when Hisoka somehow, inexplicably caught his ankle and both his wrists in hand and landed with the grace of a ballerina.

 

 _Crap._ Gon ended up in a weird dangle with only one arm free, eyes wider than saucers as his muscles were all pulled painfully so and he bit back a scream when Hisoka yanked wrong, bending his extremities backwards unjustly far to the point he felt his joints popping and ready to break. _Crap, no._

 

Gon was in an even worse position now then having his neck choked like before.

 

_This is bad._

 

But, just as Gon's dread fell like a sheet of darkness over his head and pitched him back to the realm of unconsciousness, Hisoka suddenly stopped pulling for no reason. Before Gon felt one of his shoulders dislocate from the strain, he was dropped unceremoniously to the dirt. An angry red, glowing arrow shot overhead behind Gon, out of nowhere, and he landed an inch below its path and missed the hit. As it whirred past, Hisoka leaned chaotically to the side and ducked below its trajectory, only for the arrow to come crashing into a scruffy, enormous Chimera Ant that was launching towards them at that very second.

 

The burly bear mutated creature burst into flames upon impact and let loose an ear-splitting screech, tossing and turning in a fit of fire that burned fast and burned hard. With the Chimera Ant lit like a bonfire eroding off every inch of fur and skin, another three creatures came stampeding around the blindsided corner; all teeth and claws and froth ready to attack. Gon leaned up, his fists clenched and prepared to do battle, when the turban-wearing man from before jumped down over him and fired two more luminescent arrow-shaped _Nen_ bullets out of thin air.

 

They landed, straight in the chest of the forefront attackers and they, too, shared the same fate as the previous Ant; burning with an vengeful crimson glow, all-consuming until it ate away every last bit of bone and ash and they vanished alongside the first one. The third dropped to the ground, immobile and dead, lacking a head, as Hisoka licked the bit of slimy blood from the card at hand. He hadn't moved an inch from where Gon remembered him being, his left foot poised in the air while he balanced one-legged again and grinned.

 

“Looks like the party's started just when it was getting good.” Hisoka commented lazily and Gon saw the stiff posture of Pokkle standing over him protectively, fingers fidgeting towards the clown's direction but not quite enough to insinuate his incentive to attack him. “And here I was, hoping we would could have more _fun_ , Gon. I guess until next time, then.”

 

“Wait, Hisoka-” Gon picked up but Pokkle hushed him.

 

“Get out of here, Hisoka. The Chimera Ants are invading and Satotz requests you on the front lines. I suggest you hurry or you'll miss out on all the action.”

 

Hisoka sniggered behind his playing card and fanned it out, letting it disappear over his flicked wrist and nodded. “Sounds fair then. Wouldn't want to miss out on all the blood-shed, now would I?” He lowered his chin, giving a playfully mocking bow for Gon with a hand held to his sternum. His red-topped head tipped up and Gon shivered at the grin there, sadistic and twisted on a face still showing the effects of their earlier duel and the trouble Gon had caused him there. The pleasure this cruel man showcased was ripe and evidently, the worst of all. “Until next time, my dear Gon-kun.”~

 

The psychopathic Hunter vanished in an over exaggerated twirl, pink _Nen_ swirling and only after a minute of tense, nauseating silence between them, did Pokkle finally relax and turn to ease Gon back to his feet with a proffered hand.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I am.” Gon nodded, glancing at the burnt patches where the Chimera Ant's left behind no remains in. “How did you do that? With your _Nen._ ”

 

“Transmuting technique combined with my Emission abilities.” Pokkle blinked, puzzlement etched in his features as to why Gon would be questioning his techniques and not further about Hisoka or the invading Ants. “I added small elemental properties to my _Nen_ arrows so I can have different effects on the targets I hit.”

 

“That's kind of cool.” commented Gon, wiping sticky sweat from his brow.

 

Pokkle did a quick look over of Gon, dark eyes scanning his partly battered form, before he gestured for the teen to follow. He looked well enough to fight, minus the obvious two dangling, broken fingers and patches of blood on his shirt and legs. Gon was standing, upright, and bright-eyed – Enough to put up a good match or two and assist the other members in Pokkle's standpoint. It would have to do. “Come on, let's go join the fight. The Chimera Ants are coming in swarms from all sides and we could use all the help we can get.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Gon followed behind Pokkle, not sparing one glance back at the scene of his battle with Hisoka and not a question on his mind.

 

To be honest, he was feeling as blank as he's ever been, and he couldn't fathom exactly why that is.

 

All he knew was that there was another battle to be fought and it wouldn't be with the mysterious magician Hisoka anytime soon for that matter.

 

Gon wasn't sure he was feeling sad or happy about that, anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

“Nice punch Leorio.”

 

Kurapika smirked in a jokingly manner while Leorio's _Nen_ fist flew past its intended target and crashed into the nearby wall instead, being that it was projected from at least ten feet away when he did it for that instance. The space in which his fist teleported into evaporated and the Chimera Ant charged through it, roaring at the top of its lungs. Leorio fumed from his spot, throwing up both hands in the air and waving them dramatically for emphasis, “Oh, come on! I put a lot of effort into doing that _shit._ Can't I just hit _one_ flipping thing for a change and not miss?!”

 

Giggling, Kurapika threw his finger out and the lead chain smashed against the Chimera Ant's torso, sending the centipede creature hurtling into the air and landing who-knows-where for all the blonde cared. He found it more amusing to spend his time criticizing Leorio's lack of offensive capabilities then to pay attention to weak-addled mutant animals. “Well, you have to admit that you did try. You almost had it that time. Two more inches over and you would have punched right through that Ant's face then.”

 

“Very funny Kurapika. You're an asshole.”

 

“I'll remember that next time I'm saving your ass. Fellow _ass_ holes have to stick together, don't they?”

 

Leorio flipped Kurapika off and stomped away towards the crazy fray nearby of other squad members decking it out against Chimera Ants, Kurapika trotting up behind him with a laugh suppressed against the side of his arm and failing to hide its insulting tone. Leorio's face darkened considerably but it eased when he saw his friend's face smiling sideways at him, furrowing his eye brows in an indecisive manner. “Sheesh, Kurapika, when will we ever take these fights seriously?”

 

“Beats me.” Kurapika swung his right arm out without missing a beat or breaking eye contact with Leorio; ridiculously long chain cutting cleanly through a insect-based Chimera Ant's head, it's shrill screech cutting off the ringing in their ears. “The only time we can take these things serious is when the Ants are strong and wield _Nen_. Hanzo was right; these things are pretty weak in comparison.”

 

Leorio side-stepped out of the path of a stomping rhino and Kurapika, likewise, dealt with the creature and broke both it's legs in one go, rendering it motionless and whining hopelessly on stubs. The medic began playing with the suitcase he carried and straightened out the tie on his suit with a sigh. “Do you think it was a good idea to leave Gon behind with Hisoka back there? I mean, was it the right decision?”

 

The ambiance in the air was stifling, a thick smog of uncertainty, but Kurapika shrugged it off as nothing more then self-doubt in the face of a war playing out right before their very eyes. The Chimera Ants versus human kind. “I think we have to trust our guts and hope that everything will work out. It was our only shot at insuring him a spot in the squad. If Hisoka wants to keep Gon around, he'll be the only one to convince Satotz to let him stay. Hanzo told us he was already disapproving and rejecting the proposal, but Hanzo insisted and now Satotz wants to meet Gon. But I'm not so sure Gon can win in his favor enough to impress him and stay. That's what worries me the most.”

 

“Satotz has such a stick up his ass about everything. He's so formal and authoritative, it's ridiculous.” Leorio rolled his eyes, smacking his suitcase into the face of an oncoming canine Ant and Kurapika swirled his chains around while it was caught off guard and sent it hurling into another incoming onlooker. “Makes me glad we didn't get the strict, snippy guy as the leader, don't you?”

 

“Yeah. It does make me appreciate Hanzo's aloof, carefree nature a lot more. Especially since he always has a level head when he needs to have one.”

 

“Hisoka's not going to, well, you know, kill Gon, right?” Leorio spoke in a hushed, quiet tone against the back of his hand. They were surrounded by all their allies in the heat of battle, and honestly, he didn't want them eavesdropping on their brilliant plan with their senses on all high alert. Mostly brilliant. “Even if he decides he isn't very interested in him?”

 

“I don't think so.” Kurapika voiced out loud, backpedaling as a large boulder zipped past and Leorio screamed like a girl as he tripped forward in order to avoid it. He was laying spread-eagle on the dirt with Kurapika staring down at him, brow raised. “Leorio, really? Get up, you look ridiculous.”

 

“I've looked worse.” he scoffed yet got up regardless to dust the dirt from his dress shirt and trousers.

 

“True.” swinging out his _Dousing_ Chain, the small ball broke through an amphibian Ant's jaw and the creature cried out in anguish, colliding with the ground to cradle it's wounded mouth with a whine. Kurapika and Leorio kept walking, ignorant. “You have looked much worse then you did just now.”

 

“Thanks Kurapika. Thanks. You are so kind.”

 

“Well, I am pretty kind. While you, Leorio, are kindly a _jerk._ ”

 

Leorio rubbed his chin and nodded, “That sounds more appropriate-” but stopped immediately when he heard the _jerk_ part and gasped incredulously, appearing burnt. “-You're evil, Kurapika! How can you be so cruel to me? Aren't we best friends?”

 

Kurapika simply rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of the medic's briefcase, swinging, and effectively smashing in the face of another oncoming Ant before returning it to a dumbstruck Leorio. “I'm joking, relax.” An abrupt pause as mirth shined in gray eyes, then, “If Gon is still with Hisoka, then where did Killua run off to?”

 

“Maybe he's fighting with the others?” suggested Leorio but the blonde had a strange sense of foreboding in the back of his mind, nagging him otherwise.

 

“If he was, we would have seen him by now. You know since we've accepted him into our group that he's never strayed too far from us. He would have easily found either you or I by now and would be somewhere close by. But I haven't seen him and the Ants only invaded twenty minutes ago. The battle's only begun.”

 

“Then maybe he'll show up?” Leorio climbed atop a toppled car, the insides damaged beyond repair but the outside frame mostly intact. He sat on the hood as Kurapika stood by the driver's side, facing the onslaught of Hunters fighting against Ants in front of them. They were far enough out of range that nobody seemed to notice them, which was fine. “You know how Killua is. When there's a battle, he's the first to jump into the fray. Whether willing or not, well, he's probably out there fighting. He'll show up.”

 

“I don't know. There's something bugging me since we've docked in Dolle Harbor.” murmured Kurapika and Leorio's eyes glinted in concern.

 

“Like?”

 

“I'm not sure exactly. But it's like this terrible nagging feeling in the back of my head trying to tell me that something's wrong.”

 

“Is this because of that warning we received earlier about Killua? From Palm?”

 

“It might be. It feels like there's something missing though.”

 

“Other then kicking easy Chimera butt?”

 

Kurapika waved his hand in a shushing motion. Leorio just rolled his eyes and didn't budge an inch. “This is way worse then focusing on ridding weak Ants. It's bad.”

 

“That bad?” The bespectacled man frowned, brows knitted together in concern. There was a look of utmost worry on the Kurta's face, like he had just received bad news and the slow drop of shock was falling down upon him heavier then an impacting landslide. His distress was a crushing boulder and the misery enough to suffocate himself on judging by the paleness of his features, the strangled lines etched in his face where Leorio could tell Kurapika tensed the most; _stress_ lines. This was the part of Kurapika he loathed seeing the most, when he was upset and his Scarlet eyes were burning around the edges of his gray retina like a warning sign. Red has always been a dangerous color in their lives, so to see it in his best friend's own aura was wrong. “What do you want to do then? Your call.”

 

“Let's go find him.”

 

Leorio nodded, knowing it'd be best to follow his friend's lead then to argue. When he was in such a state, Leorio would do anything to tear that visage from his friend's appearance; replace it with something much more pleasant and reassuring. Because when he saw that darkening shadow overtaking his companion's character; blacking out the light he found there, Leorio would tear through and rescue him.

 

He couldn't stand to watch another one fall to the Devil's clutches.

 

“Okay.” He got to his feet, hopped down from the car and tailed behind Kurapika who already started walking off. They passed through a huge throng of **Silver Squadron** members; primarily from the first division, and Leorio waved to a few customary faces of those who found this silly game mere child's play like they did.

 

There was Satotz's right hand lady, Menchi, and her insane butchering knife skills. She was a Gourmet Hunter; seeking out renowned ingredients all around the world to cook high-end and rare culinary dishes simply for the reason of taste testing these exquisite findings. She was hacking through Ant after Ant like they were only just air for her huge kitchen knives to pass through and Leorio only glanced once (maybe twice) at her large, exposed rack before Kurapika shouted for him to hurry up.

 

Beside her was her partner Buhara; a mammoth of a man who's body rivaled the size of full-sized bull. He was both solid girth and muscle and he threw aside the mutant creatures as if they weighed nothing but air. Thus, Mench cut threw air and Buhara was tossing weightless, airy things. They made a good team and Leorio regretted ever getting on their bad side because he still had nightmares of Menchi trying to stab him to death.

 

It was nothing like Palm and her insane knives, however. She wasn't even borderline mental. She was just mental.

 

Leorio recognized a few more less-than-friendly faces as they trekked through the more busier parts of Zaban City, headed towards Dolle Harbor. Tonpa; _that asshole_ , was wielding two large machine guns and making mince meat of huge, hulking Ants while the three Amori brothers were tag-teaming in their infamous 'three-pronged' attack patterns; flinging limbs and heads every which way with no real courtesy to the other members of their squad who were caught in the cross-fire. Bourbon; the snake charmer, was casually poised on the highest rock face with his flute in hand as countless amounts of snakes coiled and tore apart Ants in mass quantities until they were seizing remnants of themselves on the ground.

 

Todo; the wrestler, was sizing up even larger opponents and ripping apart the Ants mostly mixed with the biggest species of animals; such as a Fox Bear, rhinos and elephants, and more. Bodoro; an older and polite martial arts gentleman, was effortlessly knocking aside the small and lither of Ants as Ponzu sat back and left her crazy swarms of _Nen_ -enhanced Bees to engulf whoever stepped within a ten foot radius of herself. The corpses that dropped after being stung looked like disheveled, bumpy pieces of chewed meat and Leorio grimaced, refusing to look too long and lose his breakfast for this. The same applied to the ones Geretta; the huntsman, shot down with his blow darts as they convulsed, frothed and had violent, uncontrolled spasms. They were dead before they hit the pavement.

 

“Where are we going, Kurapika?” He asked, ducking under arm's reach of a swiping claw from a feline-crossed Ant. Kurapika swung out his _Dousing_ chain and it burst through the other end of it's skull, bloody splattering through the air, but did not say a word as he walked. Leorio flicked off a few pieces of mystery guts he did _not_ want to know what part of the anatomy it belonged to. “You're not getting lost are you?”

 

“I'm not lost. I'm looking for Senritsu.”

 

Leorio brightened at the mention of their music-inclined, harmonized friend. He snapped his fingers the split instant he realized Kurapika's intentions and nodded in understanding. “Oh, I see. You plan to use her sensory abilities to find Killua, right?”

 

“Right. If there's anyone who can find someone, she will.” Kurapika turned a corner and Leorio skipped a few steps to match his pace, walking side by side with his partner. “Knowing her, she's probably still stationed where we last saw her. Which isn't far from here, but still some ways. She's not much for fighting as she is for providing support, so I can't imagine she'd stray from her post to do battle away from a safer zone.”

 

“Pokkle was with her last. He'd protect her.”

 

“Leorio! Kurapika!”

 

Both men turned and just as said; Pokkle _and_ Gon were running towards them, waving frantically for their attention. Gon looked more worse for wear but he was holding up; deduced by the tears in his clothes, the blood on his knees, the messy unkempt hair and scratchy face. Hisoka did a number on him yet the kid was still standing. Leorio wasn't sure if he wanted to declare that a miracle or not. At least the guy was alive and well after his encounter with the mad magician – That was all that mattered.

 

“What the hell are you two doing together?!” he exclaimed, louder then necessary. Gon rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, chuckling under his uneven breaths.

 

“Pokkle kind of saved me back there when I was in a bind. We were on our way to come help you guys fight the Chimera Ants.”

 

“What about Senritsu?” Kurapika inquired, raising a brow towards the turban man who sweat dropped like he might have forgot all about that fact. “You didn't just leave her behind to _fend for herself_ , did you?”

 

“No!” objected Pokkle, warranting calculative stares from the two oldest males, “She told me to go fight elsewhere since there wasn't very many attacking at that moment. That's when I found this guy-” He threw a thumb back in Gon's direction. “-fighting it out with Hisoka just as a bunch of Ants were swarming them from the sides. I figured it would be best to intervene since he _is_ one of our members, right?”

 

“Right.” both Leorio and Kurapika chorused together, like they were on autopilot, and causing Gon to smile at the brisk feeling of belonging there, no matter how little the acceptance was. He knew not many people were informed of his 'hidden' status so he appreciated the fact that, despite the odds, somebody considered him a member of their team regardless.

 

“What luck we have to be coming across Leorio and Kurapika when we were headed your way already! That saves us a lot of time trying to find you.” Gon beamed, his usual cheerfulness back intact and the trio of boys all nodded their heads; sucked in by the giddy atmosphere that Freecs always brought with him. Invigorating and awe-inspiring. “Now we can get straight to fighting right away to help the others.”

 

“Not yet.” interjected Kurapika, holding up his palm, “We need to find Killua.”

 

“Killua? Isn't Killua still with his brother?”

 

Leorio stepped forward, alarm stiffening his features at the mention of Killua's brother. “When did Killua go with his brother?!”

 

“Back when we first separated from the group.” Gon pointed out, uncertain if he should be following Leorio's lead about flying into a panic. He sent him off edge simply thinking about it to start. “He introduced himself as Illumi and he wanted to talk to Killua privately. They left together just as you guys found me to go meet with Hisoka.”

 

“ _Shit._ ”

 

Leorio cussed and Kurapika set a hand on the medic's shoulder in a calming gesture that only made the older male cringe. Watching one of his friends looked disturbed and upset made Gon frantic with worry. Did he say something wrong by telling them Killua went with Illumi? Was Illumi really that bad?

 

“It'll be okay, Leorio. I'm sure Killua can handle it himself. But this just means we need to be even quicker in our search to find him.”

 

Leorio shook his head, frown etched “I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe this is _fucking_ happening..” He walked off, muttering all kinds of things to himself that Gon couldn't quite make out, as the chain-user came to stand in front of him, his smile as fake as Gon has ever seen it.

 

“Gon, will you go with me to help go find Killua? I have a friend who might be able to assist us.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“I'll take Leorio.” said Pokkle, grabbing hold of said man's arm gently and tugging him along against his better protests, “We'll go assist the other members and catch up with you once you find him. Sound fair?”

 

“Yes, thank you Pokkle. You've been a big help already.”

 

Pokkle waved and a begrudging doctor was forced to follow behind him or be dragged anyways. Gon waved back, standing in place up until they were long out of sight and Kurapika tapped him on the shoulder, hand in a gesture to come. They picked up a light jog and were quickly off without another word.

 

It was when Kurapika eventually led Gon into a smaller clearing where a tiny, still-intact building sat, that Gon spoke out the thought in his head that had been plaguing him since they separated.

 

“Is Illumi bad?”

 

“Bad?” The Kurta slowed to a stop, glancing back at the forest-teen with a brow raised. “What do you mean by bad?”

 

“Like a bad person.”

 

“I wouldn't really call him that, but then again.. He's not necessarily bad, but neither is he good, I suppose?” Kurapika tried but his face was falling and Gon could tell he was covering up for a lie with that.

 

“Why was Leorio so upset then when I mentioned it? He seemed really stressed out over it.”

 

“It's because-” started in Kurapika but there was a small, mousy woman running towards them and he paused in his talking to wave enthusiastically over to her. The hard lines in his face from earlier eased and became much softer as she neared and Gon marveled in her ability to calm the surrounding tension with just her demeanor alone. She was a cutesy little thing, a tiny woman with petite buck-teeth protruding, resembling a rodent. A portion of her skull was exposed where she was balding and long, violet straight hair cascaded down her back. Overall, she was a very earthy woman; wearing traditional clothes that reminded Gon of home, and as she approached he swore he heard a faint musical tune in the air, enchanting and elegant like she must be.

 

“Melody!”

 

“Kurapika-san.” her voice was soft to match like her eyes and Gon was relaxing by his friend's side while he watched the two converse fervently, all smiles and chuckles in context. He waited to speak until the pair turned to him, grinning faintly and ecstatic.

 

“Senritsu, this is Gon. Gon, this is Senritsu.”

 

Before she could say a word, Gon was talking first. “The pleasure is mine.” He bent low, taking her small hand to kiss the back of it in the polite gesture Aunt Mito taught him when being introduced to other women. Senritsu's nose twitched when she giggled. “It's nice to meet you.”

 

“Thank you. You are two kind.” She tilted her head to the side, Gon noticing the subtle wiggling of her ears like she was listening to something but the only sound Gon could make out was the rumble and crackle of the others fighting close by. “Is this the boy from Whale Island you told me about, Kurapika?”

 

“Yeah. This is him. Not bad, huh?”

 

Gon felt the tips of his ears warm at the compliment and Senritsu reached up to gently pat his arm with a nod. “Not bad at all, actually. You two came just as I was planning to find you.”

 

Kurapika glanced left and right with not a hint of Chimera Ant in sight, then looked down to smirk a little in surprise. “Are you ever going to tell me your secret on how you're such a _brilliant_ fighter that there's no Ants around you whenever we cross paths?”

 

“Nope.” A finger to her lips, a hushing notion that made the blonde roll his eyes; exasperated but amused. “Trade secret.”

 

The two shared a laugh over a knowing joke that Gon didn't catch so he shrugged it off to assess the area. There weren't any apparent corpses of Ants let alone any blood or entrails to follow with a lead, so he was curious about how this Senritsu woman managed to clear away a possible swarm and not leave a trace of evidence in her wake.

 

_These people are really strong._

 

 _But,_ Gon gazed up at the darkening sky above; clouds blanketing a once blue canvas, and frowned as a flash illuminated a part of the angry puffs of gray for a moment while thunder shook in the distance. _If they are this strong, then what does that make Killua's brother; Illumi?_

 

_He's more intimidating then Hisoka._

 

“We're looking for Killua, Senritsu.” informed Kurapika, vaguely gesturing out his hands for no reason, “Is it possible you can track him for us?”

 

“It won't be easy with all these Ants around but I am certain I can give it a shot. Give me a minute.”

 

The stocky woman closed her eyes and cupped her ears with the palms of her hands. Gon was fascinated by the resonance of her aura as it spiked, flared a moment, then calmed while she inhaled a big, deep breath and stilled.

 

There was a terse moment of silence before Gon carefully whispered, close to Kurapika's side while he watched, “What is Senritsu doing?”

 

“Trying to find Killua's heart beat.”

 

“His heart beat?”

 

“She can listen to people's heart beats and tell them apart by the differentiating sounds they make.”

 

“Like the melody!” Gon beamed as Kurapika chuckled. “The melody of one's heart beat. Or the song, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Won't it be hard though? What if she can't find Killua?”

 

“Then he's either gone or we have to seek him out physically.”

 

“I see.” Gon stared at his boots and sighed. _Please be okay, Killua._

 

When two minutes spent quietly waiting on Senritsu to find Killua were finally up, she lowered her hands and dark eyes fluttered open, looking pained. A lump dropped in Gon's chest and he frowned, that curtain of dread looming close, and as his lips parted to say something he was interrupted by the sultry, silk voice of Hisoka.

 

“Killua's not here.”

 

Gon's head snapped up, neck craning to see the magician perched high over head atop the remains of a tree trunk with no branches left. Kurapika didn't hesitate to swing his chain out and a miniature knife-like item appeared, pointed at the end and pointed directly at the sadistic clown as he snarled.

 

“What did you do with him, Hisoka?”

 

“Oh, nothing really.” Hisoka shrugged a shoulder. Senritsu took a step back, her brow furrowing and Gon wished he hadn't witnessed that flash of apprehension in such a soft face. “Must you always accuse the innocent before they justly stand trial for a crime they didn't commit?”~

 

“Where is he?” spoke up Gon, taking the forefront of the three's position below. His fists clenched at his side, quelling the earlier rage from his system so it wouldn't bubble to the surface, force him into another fight he shouldn't be having right now. “Where did Killua go?”

 

“He and Illumi should be far out to sea by now on one of _your_ Squad's boats, headed for Padokia.”

 

_No- He can't be gone. Killua can't be-_

 

“You're lying.” Kurapika's contacts glowed red around the rims, angry and violent. He pushed past a motionless Gon and brought his finger up to eye level, the chain jingling in the air as it rubbed on itself and the arrow head remained stationary, aimed in the direction of Hisoka's chest. “Tell us the truth, Hisoka-!”

 

“-He's not lying.”

 

Senritsu shuddered at the three sets of eyes staring at her now, but her expression remained neutral in spite of the situation. “He isn't lying.” she repeated, downcast, “Killua isn't here. And neither is that Illumi-person, either. I can't detect them anywhere in Zaban City.”

 

“You're kidding.” The Kurta choked out, dropping the conjuration on his chains and his hand fell, lax, to his hip. His jaw tightened, a bit of blood slipping past his lips where he must have bit down, and he swung on Hisoka; fire in his mouth. “Hisoka! You did this didn't you? Just as Palm warned us about. _You're_ the one who did this on purpose!”

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.”~

 

“Shut up! I know you do! I know you started this-”

 

“Gon!”

 

Forced to turn, Senritsu called out to the spiky-haired teenager as he shoved by Kurapika and took off at a dead sprint straight in the direction of the ocean. She was calling out to him, loudly over the ringing in his ears, and Gon didn't even register her or Kurapika's voice telling him to come back as he ran. Not even Hisoka's maniacal laughter in the distance reached him. The only sound he could hear was the sound of his own heart beat, pounding in the same thunder and clap rhythm of the mourning sky above; ruptured by peels of lightning that streaked the sky and cut the lining of the clouds back in a flash of vengeful white.

 

His boots were crunching over the dirt there, thudding along the surface in fast footfalls the faster he picked up speed, hardly breathing at this point.

 

_Killua._

 

Fists pumped at the air, arms falling in every step, and Gon frantically made himself go beyond his limits. He was guided strictly on his senses alone; his instincts telling him where to go, by the salty tang of the water and the metallic spice of blood and decay on the dawning shoreline in hindsight.

 

_Killua's gone._

 

“ **That's their job. To kill the Ants.”**

 

Gon was running past piles and piles of corpses, some of them more human than Gon wanted to admit. There were bones and rubble and dust; ashy skin and sunken eyes chewed away for a vultures next meal. Gon still didn't look.

 

“ **They don't save anyone. They don't care.”**

 

_He took Killua away._

 

There was destruction wherever you went and Gon leaped, bounded, and jumped over fallen over structures and ruined landscaping; torn apart by the chaos of war. Just like Whale Island. He ran by another fallen _Bar_ sign and would have paused to reminisce over the loss of his Aunt's bar if he wasn't running so swiftly towards the water front, amber eyes trained and focused on his goal and not so much on his panic.

 

“ **They just destroy everything, just like the Association ordered them to do!”**

 

Gon stopped at the edge of the ocean shoreline, staring out in the crashing waves of an angry sea. Killua's words replayed over and over in his mind on fast repeat, dizzying his thoughts, but he listened anyway.

 

“ **Because, I don't have a choice. This is the lifestyle I was born into, even if I didn't get a choice in the matter. I mean, who wants to have their life planned out for them?”**

 

 _You're wrong._ Gon wanted to say, wanted to scream out against his better judgment. To argue, protest, fight it out with him and make Killua see the truth. But he kept quiet then, quiet like he was now was when Illumi came. Came and took him away again.

 

“ **They want me to be a killer. And whatever they want, they always get one way or another.”**

 

Gon squeezed his eyes shut, teeth grinding and rose both fists to his chest. Blunt nails dug out tiny droplets of blood that fell into the water by his feet, dissolving in the sand below.

 

_You're wrong._

 

“ **I'm not like that.” Killua once said, randomly and out of the blue when he and Gon were relaxing on the roof of one of their squad's bases. “I'm not.”**

 

“ **Not like what?” Gon asked, curiosity perked by such unusual words. And it was Killua so of course he was interested.**

 

“ **I'm not sure.” The albino laughed and Gon hated the sad smile there, so out of place and unlike him that it hurt to simply see it on his face, alien and foreign and** _ **wrong**_ **. “I honestly don't fucking know what I'm talking about sometimes, yah know?”**

 

“ **I guess.”**

 

**Both boys went silent for an instant, just immersing themselves in the starry night up above. Once Gon found the ache in his chest dying, he smiled and peeked back over to Killua, chuckling when he probably shouldn't have.**

 

“ **But, if you ever figure it out, Killua; I want to be the first one to know, okay?”**

 

“ **Mm?” Killua rose a brow, shrugged, and that smile wasn't there anymore. Now he was normal, like how he should be.**

 

**Gon kept on smiling and Killua's cheeks tinted pink. He smiled, too, then; and the smile lit up the sky similar to the moon.**

 

“ **Whatever you say, Gon.”**

 

“Killua!”

 

Gon's shout echoed across the drum of thunder overhead and he screamed out; voice hoarse to match as he tried with all his might to make his own sound fly out and reach him.

 

But no sound came back and Gon coughed, throat rugged and scratchy from screaming so hard that he was forced to breath before he ran out of air. He scrubbed at his neck, a sad smile mirrored in his features – The same smile Killua wore when said such uncertain words to him. Such uncouth, unfaithful words; spoken to him in the whispers against cool, icy glass. The words people only tell themselves in mirrors; lonely and scared.

 

 _I'll find you, then._ He squared his shoulders, wiping away the smile so he could frown and be honest with himself. _I promise._ Gon didn't want to lie to himself that he was upset by his own actions, that he let Killua go with his brother when clearly he didn't want to. He let Killua slip back into the role he so wantonly tried to escape. And Gon wasn't there when he needed him most; wasn't there to support him. He was stupid and ignorant and naive and-

 

“Hey, you.”

 

Gon stepped sideways as a large beast-like man approached him from the east. The male was huge; like a giant humanoid rabbit, and the size of his thigh muscles were double what Hisoka had, which were big enough already. There were sharp, pointed feathers running down the length of his arms until they were fully covered in them. He had a thin mustache; long emerald green hair similar to Illumi's, and there was a noticeably large dark patch around his left eye.

 

Gon retreated back as the man drew closer, sporting a vicious grin on his face. Even though the beast was dressed in raunchy clothes far worse then even Hisoka's (a tiny thong that offered minimal coverage and a lacking crop top exposing every inch of his flesh spoke volumes), it was his outrageous violet-coated _Nen_ that set off the alarm bells in Gon's head.

 

“ _Stay away from the Ants that know Nen. They're so strong they can wipe out hundreds of Hunters just by themselves.”_

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Doesn't matter.” The creature licked his lips, a wild look in his eyes, and Gon swallowed down his fear in replacement of his courage. He would not stand down, not this time. Since this thing towered over his meager height; it leaned down to his level and grinned, tongue running along the bony fangs there with a low, diabolical cackle of his own. “Because, I'm going to eat you little boy. So say your prayers, because I'm going to take my sweet time devouring every inch of your tasty flesh alright.”

 

“Every. Single. _Fucking._ Inch. Of. You.”

 

The rabbit-monster lunged forward and Gon; against his greater will, just stood there as it flew towards him in slow motion – Claws and teeth and fire aiming in his direction with all intent to kill.

 

Gon didn't move; however, because he was stuck.

 

Stuck both physically and by his thoughts, combined.

 

Where was Killua when you really needed him?

 

 _Oh, right._ He was gone.

 

Gon laughed, or at least, thought he did, as a spray of feathers came soaring across his vision and everything went red from there.

 

_Damn._


End file.
